


This Dark Descent Part One- The Scarlet Salamander

by Alice_Writes_Stuff



Series: This Dark Descent [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket, His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Canonical Character Death, Child Abuse, Gen, Hypnotism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, child endangerment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 69,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_Writes_Stuff/pseuds/Alice_Writes_Stuff
Summary: A HDM/ ASOUE AU. (Basically, ASOUE with daemons.) Once upon a time, in a world not so different from this one, there lived three extraordinary children, Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, and their three extraordinary daemons, Prospero, Elizabeth and Oliver...When the Baudelaire siblings find their lives turned upside down by a dreadful fire, they end up being taken in by Count Olaf, an actor without talent, morals or remorse. One would think he had no soul at all, were it not for the scarlet salamander perched on his shoulder.After the Count's first dreadful scheme is foiled, the Baudelaires think they might be free from his treachery, but their troubles are just beginning. The siblings go from a herpetologist's house, to a small town beside a large lake, and finally to a lumber mill. And all the way, just a step or two behind, Count Olaf, and his scarlet salamander, are lurking...(Fic covers the events of The Bad Beginning, The Reptile Room, The Wide Window and The Miserable Mill)
Relationships: Klaus Baudelaire & Sunny Baudelaire & Violet Baudelaire
Series: This Dark Descent [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607032
Comments: 18
Kudos: 23





	1. Violet

**A.N- This is an ASOUE AU fic set in the His Dark Materials universe. The plot is essentially the same as that of ASOUE, except for the fact that everybody has a dæmon, an animal companion which is the physical manifestation of their soul. For anyone who’s unfamiliar with HDM, I’ll include some additional notes about how dæmons work as we go along.**

Chapter One: Violet

Once upon a time, in a world not so different from this this one, there lived three children, the Baudelaires. The eldest Baudelaire was Violet, a fourteen-year-old inventor who was never short of good ideas. Violet was the only Baudelaire whose dæmon, Prospero, had settled, and after taking the farm of a hedgehog, he could usually be found on her shoulder, in her pocket or at her feet. Prospero knew Violet’s inventive mind better than anyone, and always managed to position himself in the most out-of-the-way place possible when she was working. 

The middle Baudelaire was Klaus, a twelve-year-old bookworm with a remarkable memory. Klaus’s dæmon, Elizabeth, had not finished settling, although she was rather fond of taking the form of an owl- she believed it made her seem intelligent. She _was_ intelligent, of course, as was Klaus. Lizzie could usually be found on Klaus’s shoulder, on the arm of his favourite reading chair in the Baudelaire library, or even occasionally on his head. 

Finally, the youngest Baudelaire was Sunny, an infant girl with four unusually sharp teeth. Sunny’s dæmon, Oliver, had also not finished settling, though he had a different set of preferred forms. Right now, for instance, he had taken the form of a wolf cub, and was curled up beside Sunny. The two of them were each currently biting a rock, one of their favourite past-times.

Right now, the three siblings and their dæmons were sitting on Briny Beach. Their parents had suggested they go, riding the rickety trolley and bringing a picnic, as well as their current projects. Normally, none of them particularly liked going to the beach, because of how crowded it tended to be on sunny days. However, on cloudy days such as this one, they more or less had the place to themselves.

Violet reached into the picnic basket and pulled out her newest invention, a machine that was supposed to retrieve rocks that had been skipped on the ocean. “I hope this works,” she said, setting the machine down on the sand.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Prospero said, crawling out from where he’d been hiding in her bag. “You’ve been working on it for _ages._ ”

“Maybe not _ages,_ ” Violet corrected. “But a while, certainly.” She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out her purple hair ribbon, quickly tying up her long, dark hair before picking up a stone and offering it to Sunny. “Sunny, could you smooth this down for me?”

“Venas,” Sunny replied, by which she meant, _Of course- like you even have to ask._ Sunny, being only an infant, had not learned to speak to the same extent as her siblings, and instead communicated in a series of unintelligible shrieks, understood only by Oliver and her family. 

“Thanks,” Violet said, handing her the rock.

Klaus, meanwhile, had reached into the basket to take out the book he’d brought with him. He took it out, looked at it, and promptly returned it to the basket with an irritated sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Violet asked.

“I picked up the wrong book by mistake.” Once again, he removed it from the basket and showed it to her. “See? I meant to grab my book about tide pools, but I brought this one instead. I’ve already read it, and I’m not even interested in learning about people who live near active volcanoes any more, so I don’t see much point in re-reading it.”

“Don’t worry about it, Klaus,” Lizzie said. “Once Violet’s tested her thingamajig, we can go back home. Then you can get your book.” 

Violet nodded in agreement, though she didn’t like her invention being referred to as a “thingamajig.” Nevertheless, she turned her attention back to the aforementioned thingamajig. Taking the smooth stone from Sunny, she prepared to throw it.

“Hang on, are you using your left hand?” asked Klaus.

“I’m experimenting- I wanna see if I can throw it as for with my left hand as I can with my right.” Klaus just frowned at her. 

“I suppose- but if you want to do this properly, you should have stable systematics- meaning you should throw it with your right hand instead.” 

“That does seem reasonable,” she replied, and swapped the rock over to her right hand. Then she got into position, and threw it. The stone skipped across the water eight times, before sinking.

As soon as it disappeared, Violet crouched down beside the machine, pressing the button to activate it. The thin metal arm slid out across the sea, reaching the point where the stone had sunk. Violet watched, holding onto Prospero, as the claw at the end of the arm reached down into the sea and drew out the smooth, dark grey stone. Violet pressed another button, and the arm retreated back to the beach, and the stone fell into Violet’s hand. 

“It worked!” Violet exclaimed, while Prospero ran around in excited circles. 

“I never expected otherwise!” Klaus replied. He helped Violet pack the invention back into the picnic basket.

“I can’t wait to tell Mom and Dad about this- do you think we should go home now, or stay a bit longer?” Klaus opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Sunny spoke up. 

“Gack!” she said, by which she meant, _Who’s that mysterious figure coming out of the fog?_

Sure enough, there was a tall figure descending the steps of the beach. A tiny, dark shape was at his feet, and it took a second too long for Violet to realise who it was. Still holding her stone, she picked up Sunny. Prospero sat next to her shoe, and Oliver shifted into a mouse and sat next to him. 

“It’s Mr. Poe,” she said, managing a smile. Mr. Poe was a banker, and a friend of the Baudelaires’ parents. He wasn’t the most interesting person in the world, and he was always coughing, but otherwise Violet had never really minded him. 

Finally, Mr. Poe reached the three siblings. Both he and his dæmon, a mole named Eugenie, were smiling- although neither of their smiles met their eyes.

“Hello,” Violet said, in an attempt to break the silence. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Hello, children,” Mr. Poe replied. Eugenie didn’t say anything, she just smiled awkwardly at Prospero and Oliver. 

“It’s a nice day,” Violet observed, even though it wasn’t not in the way that most people would consider it.

“It is a nice day,” Mr. Poe agreed. Then he spoke again, and tore the children’s lives apart. “I have some very bad news for you children. Your parents have perished in a terrible fire.”

Violet barely noticed as her stone fell to the ground. She barely noticed as her arms tightened around Sunny, and she barely noticed Prospero climbing up her leg and into her pocket. She barely noticed anything, her head was too full with Mr. Poe’s words. _Your parents have perished in a terrible fire._

“They perished in a fire that destroyed your entire home.”

Still, none of them said anything. What was there to say? This was all so _wrong._ The words were all wrong, the tone was all wrong, the whole thing was just wrong, wrong, _wrong._

“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, my dears.” He reached out and awkwardly tapped Sunny’s hand. When they still stayed quiet, he sighed. “Perished means killed.”

“We know what perished means,” Klaus replied.

“I’m sure you do,” Mr Poe said, though Violet wasn’t convinced. Anyway, you’ll all need to come with me. We’ll need to arrange a suitable guardian in accordance to your parents’ wishes, who can look after you until Violet comes of age- at which point you’ll inherit a large fortune and be able to look after yourselves. Until we can find someone, though, you’ll be staying with my family. I’m sure we’ll all get along just fine, during that time, however short it may be.” Violet wasn’t convinced of that either. “Now, come along.”

And with that, Klaus picked up the picnic basket, and the three Baudelaire orphans, and the three Baudelaire dæmons, left the beach, and their old lives, behind. 

The days which followed were, needless to say, deeply unpleasant. This would have been the case even if the Poe family had been warm, welcoming people, but they were not. Thus, they only helped to exacerbate- a word which here means, make an already awful experience even worse- the Baudelaires’ awful situation. 

Mrs. Poe was a journalist, working for the city’s main newspaper, The Daily Punctilio. Violet had always been told that The Daily Punctilio was far from being the most accurate source of information- although, of course, she shouldn’t take anyone’s word for it- and that some of its journalists were not very sensitive or empathetic people. Violet hadn’t believed that at first, but Mrs. Poe seemed set on proving that it was true. 

Edgar and Albert Poe did not make the Baudelaires welcome, and neither did their dæmons. Unlike Prospero, neither of them had settled yet, and instead they shifted from form to form, whichever seemed most likely to intimidate Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver, and stop them from feeling at home. 

Not that they really needed to bother, of course. Because the Poe household would never be home to the Baudelaires, and none of them needed to be reminded of that. In fact, Violet was quite sure nowhere would feel like home ever again. 

Still, it was a relief when, almost a week after the fire, Mr. Poe announced that this would be the last night the Baudelaires would spend here. 

“You children have kept me quite busy this week,” he explained. “But now, after making the necessary arrangements for your vast inheritance-”

“They get a vast inheritance?” Edgar asked. 

“That’s not fair!” Albert protested. 

“Wait, do _we_ get a vast inheritance if our house burns down?” Edgar asked.

“No, you don’t,” Mr. Poe replied, bluntly. “Anyway, as I was saying, Baudelaires, now that I’ve finished making sure your inheritance is in place for when the time comes, and spoken to a rather friendly consultant about the exact terms of your parents’ will, I have finally found you a suitable guardian, and you’ll be moving out tomorrow morning.” 

“Good,” Albert said. “Now we can get our room back- I’m tired of sharing it. Violet and Klaus are always moping about, and their dæmons aren’t any better.”

“And the baby bites,” Edgar added. 

“Yes, I’m sure we’ll all be able to get back to some normality,” Mr. Poe said. “Now, why don’t you three head upstairs to pack? You’ll need to leave early tomorrow morning, Count Olaf will be expecting you.”

“Count Olaf?” Violet asked, nervously.

“Yes,” Mr. Poe replied. “Your parents’ will specified that you be raised in the most convenient way possible, and by your closest living relative. Count Olaf lives on the other side of town, which makes him the person who best fits that description.”

“I’m not sure that’s what closest living relative means,” Klaus replied. 

“Don’t be ridiculous- the consultant I spoke to assured me that was how it worked.” Mr. Poe coughed a few times, then continued. “As either your third cousin four times removed, or your fourth cousin three times removed, Count Olaf may not be your closest relative on your family tree, but he is your closest geographically, and that’s the important thing. Now, away upstairs and get packed. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

And so, the Baudelaires climbed the stairs, packed their few belongings into the picnic basket, and got into bed. Violet held on tightly to Prospero, even though his spikes hurt her hand. Lizzie shifted into a small cat, and Oliver shifted into a Jack Russell terrier puppy, so they were better placed to cuddle with Klaus and Sunny. 

All three Baudelaires (and all three dæmons) found it hard to get to sleep that night. They were all too worried about what would await them tomorrow. Their time in the Poe household may have been miserable, but surely, Violet thought, the misery you know is sometimes better than the misery you don’t know. Whatever was coming, it couldn’t possibly be worse than what they’d already been through. 

How very, very wrong she was.


	2. Klaus

Chapter Two- Klaus

The next day, the Baudelaires left Mr. Poe’s house. Klaus had hoped they might be given a proper suitcase, or at least a bag of some sort, instead of the picnic basket they’d brought from Briny Beach, but the Poes hadn’t provided them with anything, and Klaus hadn’t thought it polite to ask.

And so, the Baudelaires drove to Count Olaf’s house, with nothing but the clothes they’d been wearing the day of the fire- they’d been washed since then, and were more comfortable than the clothes Mrs. Poe had bought them- and a basket filled with a now-useless invention and a book Klaus had already read. Mrs. Poe had made them hand over the food that had been in the basket, but otherwise, the contents had gone untouched since the fire.

Klaus reached into the basket. The book may no longer interest him, but it was the only one left from the otherwise destroyed Baudelaire library, and as they drove to Count Olaf’s house he wanted to hold onto it, in the hopes that it would bring him some comfort.

To his surprise, his fingers brushed against something cold and metallic, something that was definitely not Violet’s invention. He was even more surprised to find that the object was, instead, a long brass spyglass, covered in strange markings.

“What’s that?” Lizzie asked. Klaus held it out for her, so she could see it.

“I think that’s the wrong question,” he replied. “The right question is, how did it get here in the first place?”

“Mother or Father must’ve put it in there,” Violet suggested, noticing the spyglass.

“Why would they do that?” Klaus asked.

“Miss tree,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _I don’t know, but maybe we’ll find out someday._

“How will we find out?” Klaus asked. “Who’s going to tell us?”

“Is everything alright back there?” asked Mr. Poe.

“Yes, of course, Violet replied.

Klaus put the spyglass back into the basket. By now, they were driving down a tree-lined street, and slowing to a stop outside what seemed to be the loveliest house on the block. It was smaller than the Baudelaire mansion, but it was lovely and clean, with one of the nicest front gardens Klaus had seen in a while.

“Here we are, Baudelaires!” Mr. Poe said, and parked the car.

The three children climbed out, Klaus still carrying the picnic basket, Violet clutching Sunny. Lizzie perched on Klaus’s arm, Prospero sat on Violet’s shoulder and Oliver stood at her feet. They all turned to look at the lovely cottage they believed to be their new home, and smiled at the woman who emerged from it. She was wearing a long black robe and a funny white wig, the kind Klaus had only ever seen on TV.

“Hello, shalom, salutations! You must be the Baudelaires!”

“Yes,” Violet replied. “I’m Violet Baudelaire, and this is my brother Klaus and my sister Sunny, and these are Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m Justice Strauss, of the High Court, and this,” she said, gesturing to the small, golden brown cat at her feet, is Forseti.”

“Hello,” said Forseti. “It’s lovely to meet you!”

“It’s lovely to meet you too,” Violet replied. “Sorry we can’t shake your hand, Justice Strauss, our hands are a bit full.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I understand. Although, I must admit it is rare to see someone using a picnic basket in lieu of a suitcase- do you know what in lieu means?”

“It means instead of, right?” Klaus replied.

“Very good!” Justice Strauss replied, smiling. “Now, you children should probably get going- Count Olaf will be expecting you. Hopefully I’ll see you all later!” Violet frowned.

“You mean, you aren’t married to Count Olaf?”

“Oh, heavens no! I mean, I don’t really know him that well, he’s just my neighbour. He lives right across the street, over there.” She pointed, and the children turned.

The house they saw was the exact opposite of Justice Strauss’s. Where her house was small and bright, this one was tall and gloomy. Where hers was clean and tidy, this one was filthy and unkempt. Klaus hadn’t thought a house could be unkempt, but here they were.

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as it looks,” Violet said, carefully. “People can have untidy houses for all sorts of reasons, it’s not necessarily a sign of a wicked person.”

Klaus hoped she was right. Accompanied by Mr. Poe and Eugenie, the three siblings walked across the street towards Count Olaf’s badly painted front door. Lizzie shifted into a mouse, and Klaus held onto her as tightly as he could without hurting both of them.

When they reached the door, Klaus noticed a rather odd looking eye had been carved into the wood. He thought perhaps he’d seen something like it before, a long time ago, but he couldn’t say for sure. He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of Mr. Poe ringing the doorbell. No sooner had he done so, the door swung open.

“Hello, hello, hello, children,” said the man who had opened the door. Klaus looked up at him, and had to fight the urge to run back across the street and hide behind one of Justice Strauss’s rose bushes.

Count Olaf- for that was the name of this frightening figure- was very tall, and very thin. His hair was unkempt and colourless, much like the single eyebrow he had in place of the more common two, and his dark grey suit was crumpled and worn. He had very shiny eyes, which made him look both angry and hungry, and another eye tattooed on his ankle. The only source of colour Klaus could see amidst all the grey came from the man’s dæmon, a bright red salamander which was perched on his shoulder.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to come in?” Count Olaf asked, stepping aside to let the Baudelaires in. “Oh, and mind you wipe your feet. I don’t want you tracking mud in here.”

It was a ridiculous request. Klaus knew it as soon as he entered the house, which was so filthy it was almost certainly a health hazard. He turned to look at Mr. Poe, who was standing awkwardly just inside the doorway. He wasn’t going to just allow this to happen, was he? Surely there were rules, or procedures, or _something_ that was supposed to prevent things like this from happening? Weren’t there meant to be background checks and assessments and that sort of thing?

“This room looks like it could use a little work,” Mr. Poe said, after a brief fit of coughing. Klaus blinked at him. That was it? That was all he had to say?

“I realise that my humble home isn’t as fancy as the Baudelaire mansion, but perhaps with a bit of your money, we can fix it up a little nicer,” Count Olaf replied.

“The Baudelaire fortune will not be used for such matters. In fact, it will not be used at all until Violet is of age.”

Once again, the priorities of the banker astonished Klaus. Was he seriously more concerned with making sure the Baudelaires’ inheritance was being used correctly that making sure the children were living in a clean house?

“I see,” Count Olaf replied. “Well, in that case, you’d better be on your way, hadn’t you? We’ll manage just fine.”

For a second, Klaus almost hoped Mr. Poe would stay a little longer. Klaus may not like the banker, but he liked the thought of being left with Count Olaf even less.

“Good-bye, children!” Poe said, and Klaus felt his heart sink. “I’ll be sure to check in on you from time to time, and you can always come and see me at the bank if you have any questions.” And with that, he closed the door, leaving the Baudelaires alone with their new guardian.

“Alright then,” Count Olaf said, frowning down at the children. “Since the three of you aren’t going to pay to fix up this house, you’ll have to do it the hard way.” Reaching into his pocket, he produced a rather long sheet of paper. “Now, the three of you have probably never done a chore in your lives, but that changes right now, is that understood?” He handed the list to Violet. “I expect you to have everything on that list done by this afternoon, or there will be consequences.” He frowned, noticing the picnic basket. “You’ll need to put that upstairs, first. I’ll show you to your room, and then you can get started.”

Count Olaf led the children upstairs, to a small room at the top of the house. To Klaus’s dismay, there was nothing in it but one narrow bed, a cardboard box and a small pile of rocks in one corner. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to dwell on this latest horrible development. There was only time to set the basket down, before Count Olaf ushered them back out of the room and down the stairs.

For the next several hours, the Baudelaire siblings worked through each of the chores on Count Olaf’s list. They were a far cry from the chores the children were used to helping with at home. Normally, at home, they only helped with some of the chores, and it was a team effort. For instance, Violet would wash the dishes, while Klaus dried them. Or Klaus would fold the laundry, and Violet would arrange it into five neat piles, one for each Baudelaire. Sunny was never asked to help, she was too little.

Here, though, the chores were backbreaking and difficult. Here, they not only had to wash the dishes, they had to clean the kitchen as well, and the kitchen looked as though it had not been cleaned in years. Then, they had to clean the bathroom and the ballroom, both of which were even grimier than the kitchen. Even the laundry was made unpleasant by the sheer backlog of clothes they had to wash. It felt like they’d washed every item of clothing Count Olaf owned, apart from the ones he was currently wearing.

Finally, they were done, and just in time, as no sooner had they sank down onto their bed, than Count Olaf came striding in.

“What are you doing up here? You’re supposed to be doing your chores.”

“We finished all of them,” Violet explained. Prospero was asleep in her lap, and she looked like she was ready to do the same.

“No you haven’t,” Could Olaf said, and snatched the list from the pillow. He checked it, flipped it over and quickly scribbled something on the back, before setting it down on the pillow again. “There, see?” Violet picked it up and read it.

“You want us to cook dinner tonight?” she asked.

“I do indeed. Not just for me, but for my acting troupe as well. The five of them are coming over for rehearsal tonight and I want you to cook us dinner.”

“But we’ve never had to cook dinner before. We don’t know how,” Klaus pointed out. Count Olaf sighed.

“It’s not that complicated. Buy the food, prepare it, set the table, serve dinner, clean up afterwards and stay out of our way.” Then he tossed a small bag of coins in the general direction of the children, and left.

Once he was gone, Klaus stood up and began to pace. Lizzie shifted back into an owl and started flying from one end of the room to the other, mirroring him.

“What are we going to do? None of us knows how to cook anything, let alone a huge meal for nine people.”

“It doesn’t have to be complicated,” violet said, gently. “We just need to find a simple recipe from somewhere, and then we can take it from there.”

“But where are we gonna find a recipe? I’m pretty sure there’s no cookbooks in this house- or any books, for that matter.”

“Judd!” Sunny shrieked, by which she meant, _Maybe Justice Strauss can help us- why don’t we ask her?_

“Sunny’s right- Justice Strauss is bound to have something that could be of use to us, even if it’s just a suggestion for something we could cook.”

The simple act of leaving Count Olaf’s ugly house and walking across the street to Justice Strauss’s pretty one was enough to lift Klaus’s spirits a little. If only they could live here, he thought, things would be so much better. Violet pressed the doorbell, and shortly after, the door opened.

“I was just on my way over to see you children!” Justice Strauss said. “How can I help you?”

“We wondered if we could borrow a cookbook?” Violet asked.

“I don’t see why not- although I have to ask, why do you want to borrow one? Are you interested in learning how to cook?”

“Count Olaf is making us cook dinner for his theatre troupe tonight, and we need an easy recipe,” Prospero replied. Violet closed her eyes.

“He’s not _making us_ ,” she said, even though that was exactly what he was doing. “He’s just asked if we wouldn’t mind cooking tonight.” Justice Strauss frowned, but let them into the house.

“Alright, come with me- hopefully we’ll be able to find you a cookbook that pleases you.” She led then through her house, which was just as lovely on the inside as it had appeared on the outside.

They walked through a lovely hallway and into a large room. Klaus couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was a library. A real, well-stocked library, smaller that the one his parents had kept, but no less cozy. There were more books than Klaus had seen since before the fire, and there was a pair of reading chairs, both quite large and comfortable looking, and a wooden table with lamps hanging over them.

“This library is wonderful!” he said, wishing he could take it all in at once.

“Thank you very much,” Justice Strauss replied. “I find a library is often like an island in a vast sea of ignorance, don't you agree?”

“I do," Klaus replied. "Particularly if the library is tall and the surrounding area has been flooded.”

That is an excellent point. Now, the cookbooks are over there. You're welcome to borrow any of them, as long as you look after them and bring them back.”

It wasn't long before Klaus found something that might be manageable. The recipe was for a dish called pasta puttanesca, and it looked easy enough to prepare.

“It looks delicious,” Lizzy observed, from her place on the arm of his reading chair.

“I agree,” he said, and showed the book to Violet. “What do you think?”

I think it looks easy- I'm fine with making it if you two are. They all agreed, and Klaus quickly copied down the recipe. He’d thought about bringing the book, but he didn’t want to risk spilling anything on it or damaging it in any other way.

Justice Strauss accompanied them on the rickety trolley into town, and helped them buy ingredients. They had not been given very much money, but fortunately they just about had enough for everything they needed. As they got back onto the trolley, Klaus hoped that, if the three of them could pull this off, it would convince Count Olaf to be kinder to them.

When they got home, the Baudelaires got to work straight away. Violet fixed up the pasta maker, and Klaus placed two pans- one for the pasta, one for the sauce- onto the cooker. Then Violet roasted the garlic and pitted the olives, Klaus peeled the tomatoes and chopped the anchovies, and Sunny banged on a pot with a wooden spoon singing a rather repetitive song she had written herself.

The end result was that, at least for the time being, the three children felt happier than they had in a ling time. Even Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver played on the dusty floor, the way they used to before the fire.

Their happiness was interrupted, though by the front door opening. There was a great clamour of voices, and a flurry of footsteps, then finally, the dining-room door opened and closed, and there was a knock on the door.

“Orphans, you’d better have our dinner ready. I’ll expect you in the dining-room in two minutes.” Before any of them could reply, he strode away, and the Baudelaires waited until they heard the dining-room door close before picking up the pasta and the sauce- Violet carrying one, Klaus the other. Violet also carried Sunny, and Prospero sat on her shoulder.

“Oh well, let’s get going,” she said, and together they left the room and walked into the dining-room.

Klaus hadn’t really given much thought to what Olaf’s theatre troupe would actually look like. He was pretty sure, though, that no amount of imagining could've prepared him for the five strange characters in front of him. He looked from one to the other, trying to focus on the least unusual and build up from there.

The least strange, he thought, was a dark-haired person, in an orange shirt. Klaus wasn’t sure if they were a man or a woman, and he didn’t exactly plan on sitting down to chat with them in order to find out. Their dæmon was a nuthatch, a tiny blue and yellow bird that flitted about their head.

Next was a pair of identical twins- two old ladies, with frighteningly pale faces, made worse by the white make-up they wore. Their dæmons were identical, too- a pair of Siamese cats. That was unusual, Klaus thought. Twins and triplets rarely had identical dæmons- it was one of the biggest ways one could tell them apart.

The final two were not so much strange as they were frightening, and Klaus wasn’t sure which one was worse. There was a man with hooks where his hands should have been, and a snapping, biting crocodile dæmon, and a fierce-looking bald man, whose dæmon was a snarling, barking Pitbull terrier. And, of course, there was Olaf and his scarlet salamander, at the head of the table.

As he moved around the table, Klaus tried to serve the food evenly and quickly, wanting to get away from these strange, frightening people as fast as he could. Fortunately, they seemed too focused on their dinner to really notice him or his sisters.

Finally, it was time to serve Olaf his dinner- however, he was too busy talking to notice the children. After a moment, the hook-handed man spoke up.

“Er, boss,” he said, gesturing to Klaus. Count Olaf turned to him, and his smile dropped when he saw the pasta pan in Klaus’s hands.

“Where’s the roast beef?” he asked.

“We didn’t make roast beef, we made pasta puttanesca.”

“What?” he demanded. “No roast beef?”

“You didn’t tell us you wanted roast beef,” Klaus countered.

“Look at my guests! They can hardly touch this disgusting stuff!” In fact, it was the exact opposite- the five actors were devouring the food in front of them. It was hideously impolite, but that was besides the point. “Now, in agreeing to adopt you, I have become your father, and as your father, I am not someone to be trifled with! I demand that you serve roast beef to myself and my guests!”

“Don't you get it?” Violet replied, “We didn’t make any roast beef! This is all there is!”

“Chocpud,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Well, this and the chocolate pudding we made for dessert._

Olaf frowned at Sunny, like he was only just now noticing her. Then, before either if her siblings could stop him, he reached out and snatched her from Violet. To make matters worse, the scarlet salamander ran down his long, tattered body, and grabbed Oliver, her tale winding around his legs and her bright body pinning his to the floor. Oliver tried to shift away from his current mouse form, but it was no good.

“Let them go!” Violet demanded. “Can’t you see you’re hurting her?” Sunny was crying, though whether from Olaf’s actions or those of this dæmon, Klaus neither knew nor cared.

“Give her back right now!” he shouted. Olaf didn't listen. Instead, he lifted Sunny high into the air above his head. His arm was shaking and his stance was unsteady. If he dropped her now… Klaus held out his arms, ready to try and catch her. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the hook-handed man doing the same. He didn’t know what the others were doing, and he couldn’t afford to look away from Sunny in order to check. Not that it mattered, though. Finally, Olaf lowered his arm.

“This table’s a mess” he observed casually. “There's hardly a good place to put down a baby.” With that he set Sunny down on an empty plate, and slid her down the table a little, towards the dark-haired person and the pale twins. The former slid Sunny back towards Olaf's end of the table, like they didn’t want to have to deal with her either. Seeing her opportunity, Violet quickly lifted her from the plate and held her close.

“It’s alright now, Sunny, you’re safe,” she told her. On the floor, Oliver was also released, and was sheltered by Lizzie’s strong brown wings.

“We’re leaving for rehearsal!” Olaf announced, reaching down to collect his own dæmon and place her back on his shoulder. “The three of you are excused form attending, as you haven’t cleaned up yet. Once you have, though, you're to go straight to your beds.”

“You mean our bed?” Klaus corrected. “You've only provided us with _one bed!”_ Once again, he refused to look at Olaf's troupe. He didn’t want to know if they approved of all this or not- it didn’t matter if they did. They weren’t actually going to do anything about it, were they?

“If you want another bed, or anything else for that matter, you know perfectly well that you can go to town tomorrow and buy one,” Olaf said, as though it were that simple. As though it were _their responsibility_ to provide these things.

“And _you_ know perfectly well that we haven’t any money!” Klaus countered.

“Don’t be ridiculous- you have an enormous fortune to inherit.”

“That money is not to be used until Violet-” Before Klaus could say another word, Count Olaf reached out and slapped him hard across the face. He fell to the floor, and his glasses flew in the opposite direction.

He tried to move, but something had bound his legs together, and a weight was pressing him down. He looked towards Lizzie, and saw her in her mouse-form, a familiar red shape on top of her. Olaf had trapped the two of them the same way he’d trapped Sunny and Oliver earlier.

“Let this be a lesson to you, orphan,” he told Klaus, before gesturing for his daemon to release Lizzie. Setting her back on his shoulder once more, he smiled at his troupe as though nothing had happened.

“Now, come along, everyone! The theatre awaits!”

“But, boss-” the dark-haired person began.

“But, nothing! Come on, we have no time to lose!” And without another word to the children, he left.

As soon as he was gone, Violet crouched down beside Klaus. He’d dragged himself into a sitting position, and was holding Lizzie as tightly as he could.

“I thought this might make things better,” he said, starting to cry. “But it’s just made everything so much worse!”

Violet didn’t say anything- there was nothing to say anyway. Instead, she washed the dishes, and improvised an ice pack out of the cleanest piece of cloth she could find, and let Klaus sleep in the bed that night with Sunny. It wasn’t much, and it certainly didn’t change what had happened. But it was better than nothing.


	3. Violet

**A.N- I feel it is necessary to include a few warnings at the start of this chapter. This chapter contains a lot of awful things, including victim shaming, predatory behaviour towards a minor and indirect, though no less disturbing, physical child abuse inflicted on a baby. The first of these occurs during the Baudelaires' visit to Mr. Poe, while the others occur towards the end, after Sunny has been locked in the birdcage. If this sounds like it will be upsetting, you may wish to skip this chapter.**

Chapter Three- Violet

It is a well-established truth that there are many benefits to sleep. It can improve one’s mood, aid their ability to concentrate in school or at work, and generally make one feel better.

It is also a well-established, but far less happy, truth, that there are many benefits to a prolonged session of weeping, and while Violet Baudelaire could not claim to have felt the benefits of a good night’s sleep on the night of Count Olaf’s dreadful dinner party, she could claim the benefits of a bad night’s crying.

So, when she woke the next morning, she did feel a bit better- though her actual situation had not really changed a bit. She’d still spent the night sleeping on the cold wooden floor of her siblings’ attic bedroom, using her blue cardigan as a pillow. Which meant that her arms were cold, and covered in little pinpricks from holding onto Prospero all night.

Her siblings had not fared much better. Almost half of Klaus’s body was hanging off the bed, and Sunny had stolen the one thin blanket.

“Come on, guys,” she said, gently shaking Klaus’s shoulder. “We should probably get up.” Klaus promptly fell the rest of the way off the bed.

“Ow!” Lizzie grumbled from where she was perched on the railing.

“Do you think Count Olaf is awake yet?” Violet asked. He had been drinking a lot of wine, so he probably had a hangover, like the ones her parents used to get sometimes, after their own dinner parties. With any luck, that meant he’d still be in bed.

“Who cares?” Klaus grumbled, rubbing at his shoulders and elbows.

“If he’s still in bed, maybe we could leave,” Prospero suggested. “We can’t stay here any longer, can we? Not after last night.”

“But where could we go?” Lizzie asked.

“I don’t know- but it’s got to be better than living here,” Violet replied. “Now come on, let’s get going.”

“What happens if we run into Count Olaf?” Klaus asked. “I know he can’t really trap Prospero, but he can trap Lizzie and Oliver, and by that extension he can trap us.”

“Plus,” Lizzie added, “he can hurt all of us again, like he did last night.”

“No, he won’t,” Violet said, firmly. “Because we’re going to go to Mr. Poe, and he’s going to help us get out of here.” She hoped she sounded convincing, even though she certainly didn’t feel that way.

The Baudelaires crept down the stairs, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Once they reached the dining room, though, it became clear that they needn’t have bothered. The room was empty. The only evidence that anyone had been in here since last night was a badly written note on the table, instructing them to chop firewood and wash the dishes.

“Do you think we should ignore that or...” Violet asked, frowning down at the list.

“Are you kidding?” Klaus replied, incredulously. “We don’t have time to chop wood or wash dishes, we have to go now.” Violet nodded, and the siblings quickly left the house, trying to close the door as quietly as they could.

None of the children knew where Mr. Poe’s bank was actually located. They only knew its name- Mulctuary Money Management- and that this was where they were most likely to find him. So, they made their way towards the financial district, to find Mulctuary Money Management.

After almost ten minutes of searching, they found it. They had actually walked past it, because it was quite a dull, plain building, and the sign declaring its name was not very clear. So, they had to go back, and enter the dull building.

The front desk outside Mr. Poe’s office was empty, which struck Violet as odd. Shouldn’t there be some sort of secretary or something? She tried to put the thought out of her mind, and instead focused on what she was going to say to Mr. Poe, as she approached his door and knocked.

“Come in!” Eugenie called out, and the three children entered the room.

“Now, why did you do that, Eugenie? I’m very busy right now, and I can’t take any- oh, hello, Baudelaires,” Mr. Poe said, looking up from the little mole-dæmon, who was sitting between the two large telephones on his desk. “What brings you here?”

“It’s about Count Olaf,” Violet began, already doubting whether or not this had been a good idea. Mr. Poe clearly didn’t want them there.

“Ah yes, I was wondering how you were all getting along. Although, I must say, this is really not a good time for a catch-up- perhaps we can all go for lunch in about a week or so, and talk properly then.”

“No, we… we can’t wait that long!” Klaus replied. “I mean...”

“We mean, Count Olaf is a madman, and we can’t stay with him,” Lizzie concluded.

“He struck Klaus across the face- see his bruise?” Violet said, gesturing to Klaus’s cheek.

“Yeah- and his dæmon held Lizzie and Oliver down!” Prospero added. However, their words were lost in a long fit of coughing, and then one of the phones rang.

“Excuse me,” Mr. Poe said, and picked up the phone. “Poe here. What? Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Absolutely not! Yes. Thank you.” He put the receiver back down.

“Did you hear what we said?” Violet asked, trying hard to sound polite.

“Sort of,” Eugenie said. “Something about Olaf’s dæmon?” She shook her head. “Sounded like nonsense to me. That tiny little lizard, against two dæmons capable of shifting? Sounds like a lot of fuss over very little, if you ask me.”

“A salamander isn’t a lizard,” Lizzie corrected, though she didn’t say anything else to correct the rest of what had been said. Instead, Violet saw her shift into a little brown mouse, and crawl into Klaus’s jacket pocket.

“Well, that’s neither here nor there, is it?” Mr. Poe replied. “Now, I’m sorry you haven’t had a very good first impression of Count Olaf, but...”

“He’s only provided us with one bed!” Violet said, before she could stop herself. Before she could remind herself that it was very rude to interrupt, and that the Poes had only given them one bed too, so this probably didn’t seem too bad.

“He makes us do a great many difficult chores!” Klaus added.

“Cohort!” Sunny said.

“That means he has terrible friends!” Oliver translated.

“Excuse me,” Mr. Poe said again, as the second phone rang. He smiled as he picked up the receiver, almost like he was grateful for the interruption. “Poe here. Seven. Seven. Seven. Seven. Anything but seven. Seven. You’re welcome.” He set the receiver back down, and frowned at the orphans.

“Children, are you familiar with the term _in loco parentis?”_

“It’s Latin, right?” Klaus asked. Poe nodded.

“Latin and _legal!”_ he agreed. “ _In loco parentis_ simply means acting in the role of a parent, and it means that, now that Count Olaf is your legal guardian, it’s up to him to raise you in whatever way he sees fit. So, I’m sorry if your parents didn’t make you do household chores, or if their dæmons seemed nicer than Count Olaf’s has so far, but there’s nothing any of us can do except get used to it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll call my secretary through here to send you home. Unfortunately, this discussion has gone on for far too long, and I must wrap it up post-haste. Post-haste means-”

“It means you’ll do nothing to help us,” Klaus replied, picking up Sunny.

“Jacquelyn, could you come through here, please?” Mr. Poe asked into his phone, ignoring him. He frowned, and lowered the receiver. “Oh, I forgot- Jacquelyn didn’t come in this morning. I was supposed to be getting this rather nice actor to come in to fill in for her, but he hasn’t shown up yet.”

Violet stared at him. His secretary was _missing_ , and her had a _rather nice actor_ to fill in for her? Something about this didn’t seem right. She couldn’t put her finger on what, though, until the door to the office opened, and a man came in- along with his crocodile-dæmon. A broken typewriter dangled from one of his hooks.

“I think we need to call the IT guy,” he said, simply, walking back out so he could put the typewriter on the secretary’s desk.

“That man is one of Count Olaf’s associates!” Violet protested.

“Oh come now, you say that as if it’s a bad thing. Simply being friends with a person you happen to dislike isn’t a bad thing. Has he actually done anything to you children?”

Violet wanted to be able to say that he had, but it would’ve technically been a lie. The man hadn’t actually done anything last night, to harm or help the Baudelaires. As far as Violet was concerned, that was perhaps even worse, but she knew that wasn’t what Mr. Poe was asking. So, instead she shook her head.

“No, I suppose you’re right.” At that point, the hook-handed man came back into the room.

“Come on, Baudelaires,” he snapped at them. “Let’s go.”

Violet felt frozen in place. She didn’t want to go anywhere with this man- and especially not back to Count Olaf. But where else could they go? It was obvious now that Mr. Poe wasn’t going to help them, and crossing the hook-handed man felt like an extremely dangerous thing to do. So, taking a deep breath and holding tightly to Prospero, Violet reluctantly followed the man out of the bank.

Once they were outside, the Baudelaires were all but shoved into a long, blank car, and driven in stony silence back to Count Olaf’s house. Violet pulled her cardigan closer around her body, but it didn’t stop her from shaking. They’d lost their one chance to escape, and it had all been her fault. If she hadn’t insisted they go to Mr. Poe, then they might not have been found, and they might be far away by now.

Eventually, they pulled up outside the house- Violet refused to think of it as home. The hook-handed man got out of the car, then went to the Baudelaires’ door and yanked it open. Before Violet could blink, both she and her siblings were being dragged out of the car and up the path. It was so fast that Prospero would’ve been left behind had Violet not been holding onto him.

They were brought into the dining room, where Olaf was sitting at the head of the table, eating cupcakes. They’d been so close to never having to see his face again- and once again, it was her fault that wasn’t happening.

“Shall I let them off the hook, boss?” asked the hook-handed man. Olaf nodded, and he let go of them and walked away.

“Sit down,” Olaf said, and the Baudelaires obeyed. “I think we need to talk.” Violet glanced at Klaus, worried about where this was going. “I was rather worried when I found the three of you gone this morning- it was a relief to hear you’d simply gone to the bank.”

“We’re… sorry we worried you,” Violet replied. She didn’t believe for one second that he had actually been worried- at least not in the sense that her parents would’ve been if they’d been unable to find their children.

“It’s quite alright. I feel I owe you children an apology- I’ve been quite overwhelmed with theatrical performances and the occasional bit of consulting work, and I fear I may have been a bit… standoffish as a result.”

Violet shot another glance at her brother, who had once explained to her and Sunny what the word standoffish meant. And Violet knew, as sure as anything, that it did not apply to Count Olaf- not considering what he had done. There were many more accurate words and phrases for describing a person like Count Olaf- but standoffish was not one of them.

“In order to help you children feel more at home, I have devised a solution. The three of you will participate in my next play, The Marvellous Marriage.”

“In what way would you like us to participate?” Violet asked.

“As I said, the play is called The Marvellous Marriage, and is by Al Funcoot, the great playwright. It is the tale of a very handsome man, who will be played by myself, who marries a beautiful young woman, who will be played by Violet here. Klaus and Sunny, you’ll be part of the cheering crowd.”

“But we’re shorter than most adults,” Klaus pointed out. “Won’t that look strange to the audience?”

“You’ll be playing two midgets,” Olaf said, simply. Violet frowned.

“Would it be possible if I helped backstage instead? I can build the sets, or...”

“Build the sets?” he asked, incredulously. “Don’t be silly. A pretty girl like you should be on the stage, not hiding backstage building sets!” Violet chewed on her bottom lip, not daring to say anything. The way he’d smiled when he’d called her _pretty_ … it felt loaded up with awful implications she’d really prefer not to think about. “I know it’s a big role, but you do only have one line- and I’m sure you know what it is.”

“I don’t,” she said, feigning innocence. He sighed, and she forced herself to continue. “Count Olaf-” She stopped after seeing the look on his face. _“Father,”_ she continued. “I’m not sure I’m talented enough to perform professionally. I’d hate to disgrace your good name, and the name of Al Funcoot. Plus I’ll be very busy in the next few weeks, working on my inventions- and learning how to make roast beef.”

She’d hoped that this would placate him, considering how he had reacted to being denied roast beef last night. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Count Olaf climbed up on the table, so that he was towering over the children.

“You _will_ participate!” he shouted. “I would prefer it if you did so voluntarily, but as I believe Mr. Poe has explained, I can force you if I so desire. Now, get out and let me finish my coffee.”

The children didn’t need to be told twice. They got up from the table and left the room. Violet wondered, for a second, if they were supposed to start in on the chores they’d skipped this morning. However, since Olaf hadn’t mentioned it, and someone had already washed out their oatmeal bowls from breakfast, the siblings instead went across to visit Justice Strauss. If anyone could help them right now, it would be her.

“What do you think he’s planning?” asked Klaus as they crossed the street.

“I don’t know,” Violet admitted. “But it can’t hurt to investigate.” She was a bit reluctant to take charge again- not after they’d all followed her to Mulctuary Money Management. But she didn’t see that she had any other choice.

Justice Strauss was more than happy to allow them in to use her library again, although she seemed quite taken aback when she came in later on to see what they were reading.

“Goodness!” she said, setting down a jug of lemonade she’d brought for them. “Are you sure you want to be reading such enormous books? I don’t even like to read them, and I actually work in law.”

“Well, we’re actually considering careers in law, and we find these books fascinating,” Violet replied, smiling. She hoped Justice Strauss wouldn’t look over and notice Prospero asleep on the table next to her, and realise she was lying.

“Well, I’m sure Sunny and Oliver don’t want to sit and read these heavy tomes- perhaps they’d like to come into the garden and help Forseti and I?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea!” Violet agreed, and watched as Justice Strauss picked up her baby sister and carried her out into the garden. Oliver followed along beside Forseti, his light brown tail wagging enthusiastically. Violet watched them go, hoping that they would all get along. Oliver must’ve been shaken by last night’s events too, and with any luck this would help him feel better.

“They’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Prospero mumbled, lifting his little head to look at her. “You just keep reading- there’s got to be something helpful in there.”

“Have you found anything?” Klaus asked. Violet shook her head, frowning down at her book.

“If I knew what we were supposed to be looking for, it would be easier- but there’s so many cases here, and none of them go any way to explaining what we’re up against.”

“But we don’t know exactly what we’re up against. All we know is that Count Olaf is after our fortune, and he wants us to be in his play,” Klaus pointed out. “We don’t know if he’s got any ulterior motives, or if he is just trying to be fatherly. I don’t think we should dismiss the theory that he’s up to something, though.” Klaus sighed, and picked up the next book in his pile, a dark, thick volume called _Nuptial Law._

He hadn’t got very far into it when Justice Strauss came in, carrying Sunny.

“Would the two of you like to take a break? Perhaps you could come through to the kitchen with me, and we can have some tea?” she suggested. Violet wanted to say yes, but she wasn’t sure if they should wait until they actually found something useful before they did so. She looked to Klaus, who nodded.

“That sounds lovely, Justice Strauss,” he said, and the children got to their feet, Klaus bringing the _Nuptial Law_ book.

The three Baudelaires followed Justice Strauss through to her kitchen, and sat at her kitchen table while she made the tea. Klaus started flipping through the pages of _Nuptial Law,_ and Violet drummed her fingers on the table leg, feeling restless and bored but trying not to show it.

Staying focused on books was harder for her than it was for Klaus at the best of times, but she really, really hadn’t liked doing it this afternoon. Her hands were itching to build something, and she looked around for something she could at least fix-up. But everything in this kitchen seemed to be in perfect working order.

“What are you reading, Klaus?” Justice Strauss asked, setting down the cups of tea. She also set down a bright yellow biscuit tin, and Violet busied herself with looking through it to find the hardest, crunchiest ones to give to Sunny.

“A book on nuptial law. I think it’s important to have a good understanding of how all different types of law works if I’m going to have a career as a lawyer or a judge.

“That’s true,” Justice Strauss replied. “Although, if you like, you can take that book home with you, and take a break to read something else instead.”

“I’ll think about it,” Klaus replied, though Violet could tell that he really, really liked the sound of that idea.

Later, the children went back to the library. Klaus continued looking through the book, while Violet paced the room, looking for a wobbly shelf, a creaky floorboard, anything she could try and fix.

Once she started in on the large brass reading lamps- one of which needed a bit of oil and a new bulb, but the other of which was fine- Klaus popped a small scrap of paper into the book in place of a bookmark, closed it and frowned at her.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit restless. I feel like fixing something, but there’s nothing here to fix.”

“Well, apart from our current predicament, that is,” he replied. Violet raised her eyebrows at him. “Right, right, that’s not what you meant, I get that now. But either way, I think I may have found something. Listen to this,” he said, and opened the book again. “The laws of marriage in this community are very simple,” he read. “The only requirements are the presence of a judge, a statement of “I do” by both the bride and the groom, and the signing of an explanatory document.”

“What does that mean for us?” Violet asked, twisting her ribbon in her hands.

“What do you _think_ it means?” Prospero replied, gently tugging at her hair with one paw. Violet ignored him. She had a feeling she knew what he was implying, and she didn’t like it.

“It means you’re going to be a star!” announced an all too familiar voice. Violet hadn’t been paying too much attention to who was or wasn’t in the room, but now she saw that not only had Justice Strauss come back in, but Count Olaf had just entered the room as well.

“I’m going to be a star?” asked Justice Strauss. “Or do you mean the children here?”

“I meant you, Justice Strauss! You see, I have been struggling to find a suitable actor for a very important role in my new play, and I believe you possess the star quality I’ve been looking for!”

“I do?” Justice Strauss breathed, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Yes, you do. The play is called The Marvellous Marriage, and will run for one performance, this Friday night! I will play a very handsome man, Violet here will play the beautiful young woman I will marry, and you, Justice Strauss, will play the judge who oversees the ceremony. I’ll be back later to discuss the details, but for now, I must bring the children home. It’s almost time for their dinner.”

Without another word, he led the Baudelaires from the room- though not before Klaus managed to grab the Nuptial Law book and hide it beneath his jumper.

Once the Baudelaires were back in Count Olaf’s house, they were met by his hook-handed associate. Violet watched him warily, holding on tighter to Sunny. However, both he and his crocodile-dæmon seemed in a far better mood than they had earlier.

“Hey, boss!” he said, smiling at Count Olaf. “I’ve prepared three buttercream icing flavours for you to sample. One’s vanilla, one has a hint of nutmeg, and one’s a little lemony.”

“I told you never to say that word!”

“”Why not?” asked the crocodile. The hook-handed man glared at her, but she continued, undeterred. “It’s a lot of fuss to make over a dead guy. I mean-”

“That’s enough!” the man snapped at her. “I’m sorry about that, boss- we’ll let you enjoy your cake.” He turned to go.

“Wait,” Olaf said, taking the tray from him. “Take these brats upstairs- I can’t have them wandering off again.”

The man sighed. Grabbing the back of Violet’s cardigan with one hook, and the back of Klaus’s jacket with the other, he proceeded to drag them up the stairs. Once they were in the Baudelaires’ tiny attic bedroom, he turned to glare at them, and Violet remembered why she’d been afraid of him before.

“Now, you brats are going to stay up here until further notice, is that understood?” The Baudelaires nodded. “You probably think you’re very clever, going to banks and libraries, hoping that’ll solve your problems. Clearly they haven’t so far, and we all know they’re not going to.”

“You… you don’t know that,” Klaus replied nervously.

“Oh yes, I do. You’ve been asking all the wrong questions, Baudelaires- will this help? Will that help? What’s going on, anyway? You should’ve been asking this- what do you think is going to happen once Count Olaf manages to get your fortune? Because somehow, I don’t think any of you will last very long after that.” With one more menacing snap of his hooks, the man left.

Klaus sank onto the bed, and pulled out the book he’d kept hidden under his jumper.

“I should’ve thrown this at him- or at Olaf,” he grumbled.

Lizzie shifted from mouse to owl, flew up so she could sit beside him, then shifted to her cat-form. Violet noticed, with a small smile, that the form had changed. While she still resembled a silver tabby, as she always had, she was now rounder and fluffier, more like Forseti.

“While that would’ve been very satisfying,” Violet pointed out, “they’d have just taken the book away, and then you couldn’t finish reading it.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He studied the door, frowning. “You can take the bed tonight- I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep.”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“What I do best. I’m gonna stay up all night with a book.”

* * *

That night, Violet slept fitfully. The bed, it turned out, was not much better than the floor. As a result, when Violet woke the next morning, she was as stiff and sore as she had been yesterday. She peered around the room. Klaus had gone downstairs, and Sunny was still asleep, curled up in the nest of curtains and jacket that her siblings had made for her last night. Adding her cardigan to the pile, she crept downstairs to see what was going on.

“You don’t know the difference between figuratively and literally, do you?” she heard Klaus’s voice asking from the dining room. She crept a little closer, pressing her ear against the door.

“Of course I do!” Olaf protested. “Though I’m sure you’ll remind me.”

“If you’re doing something literally,” Klaus replied, “it means you’re actually doing it. But if you’re doing it figuratively then you’re just pretending to,” He paused, before continuing. “So, when I said-”

“You think I _actually_ want to marry your sister?” Olaf interrupted. Violet almost didn’t notice her grip on Prospero tighten until she felt his spikes digging into her hands. “Why on Earth would I want to do that?”

“Financial gain,” Klaus replied, simply. “If you married my sister, you’d gain full control over any money she has- including any inheritances. Meaning you’d have access the Baudelaire fortune.” There was a faint snap, like a book had just been closed. “But you’re not going to marry her- she’s under the age of eighteen, it’s illegal. And once I tell Justice Strauss about this, she’ll put a stop to it.”

“You’re right, orphan,” Olaf replied, and Violet frowned, confused. “Your sister is a bit young. And I suppose that would be a problem… Except you’re forgetting one little thing. I am your legal guardian, and that means I can give her permission to marry- and believe me, I most certainly will.”

Violet shuddered, and backed away from the door. She’d heard enough, and now she had to get upstairs, grab Sunny and get out of here. No sooner had she started climbing the stairs, than Klaus and Olaf emerged from the dining hall.

“What’s going on?” she asked, not wanting them to know she’d been eavesdropping.

“Count Olaf is planning to marry you literally, not figuratively.” Klaus replied.

“Don’t waste time explaining now!” Olaf said, a menacing smile creeping across his face, and she wondered why it had taken her until now to notice that his dæmon was almost the exact colour of fresh blood. “Why don’t you go upstairs and fetch the baby, and you can explain it to both of them?”

Violet felt her stomach drop at that, and she ran up the stairs to their bedroom, Klaus following behind her, Lizzie flying over their heads.

The bedroom was a mess. The pile of curtains was in disarray, a far cry from the tidy little nest they’d been when Violet had left. She found her cardigan in one corner, Klaus’s jacket in the other.

“What the Hell happened in here?” Klaus asked, entering the room and looking around.

“Never mind that!” Violet replied, reaching for her ribbon so that she could focus. “Where’s Sunny?”

“What an excellent question!” said a voice behind them. Violet didn’t even have to turn around to know that it was Count Olaf. “Certainly, it is strange to find a child missing, especially one so small, so helpless. When did you see her last?”

“What have you done with her?” Violet demanded.

“What makes you think _I’ve_ done anything? Perhaps she’s wandered off- maybe we should all go outside and have a look, just in case?” He led the way out of the room, and with growing fear and sinking hearts, Violet and Klaus followed him.

“What’s happened to Oliver?” Prospero whispered in Violet’s ear while they walked down the stairs. She wished he wouldn’t bring that up- she really, really didn’t want to think about what might have happened to her baby sister’s dæmon. “You don’t think he...”

“Prospero, I know you’re worried, but please shut up,” she hissed at him. “You’re not helping.”

Finally, they reached the back garden. The two older Baudelaires looked around frantically- even though they could both see that there was nowhere Sunny could realistically be hiding out here.

“Sunny! Oliver!” Violet called, and Klaus joined her. Lizzie flew just above them, studying the ground, and Prospero ran around in worried, unhelpful circles.

“They’re not here!” Klaus said, finally. Lizzie settled on his arm, wings practically sagging in defeat, while Prospero sat beside Violet’s feet. She sighed, and placed him on her shoulder, and Olaf finally walked over to them.

“Oh, don’t look so down,” he said, with an exaggerated frown. “I’d say things are looking up, up, up!” As he spoke, he turned and smiled at something high above them.

Violet followed his gaze, and had to fight back her tears when she saw what he was looking at. High above them, hanging from the tower, was a birdcage. Far worse than that, though, was what was inside the birdcage- a small figure, bound up with rope, a piece of tape over her mouth.

“Sunny!” she cried, forcing herself to look away in order to face Olaf. “Let her go, she’s just an infant!” He just rolled his eyes.

“Well, I could do that- but surely you can understand that if I let her go, or more accurately, if I let my comrade let her go-” he paused, and the hook-handed man poked his head out of the tower window, giving the children an almost friendly wave that felt immensely inappropriate, “little Sunny might not survive the fall.”

“No!” Klaus cried. “We… we didn’t mean...”

“Where’s Oliver?” Prospero asked, raising the question Violet had been afraid to ask. She couldn’t see her sister’s dæmon anywhere in the cage- though she had been hoping he was just taking a smaller form.

“You might wanna be careful who you ask that,” called down the hook-handed man.

As he spoke, his dæmon poked her head out of the window. Violet realised, in horror, that she was carrying Oliver in her mouth. It was too far away to see if she was holding him lightly, but it hardly mattered- her teeth had to be digging into his little body, and it had to be hurting both him and Sunny.

“Stop hurting them!” she shouted. “Please! We’ll do anything, just stop hurting them!”

“ _Anything? Anything?”_ Olaf replied, mockingly. “Would you, for instance, consider marrying me, during tomorrow night’s performance?”

“I will never marry you,” she replied, before she could think better of it. Olaf glanced over his shoulder, and gave a slight nod. The crocodile clamped down a little harder on Oliver, causing both him and Sunny to cry out in pain. A few tears escaped Violet’s eyes at the sound, and she longed to run up there right then and there and grab Sunny, and never let her go.

“You see, Baudelaires, right now your sister is like a stick, behind a stubborn mule. Any animal owner will tell you, if you want to get a stubborn mule to move in the right direction, you need to hold a carrot in front of them, and a stick behind them. The animal will then move forward, because it wants both the reward of food, and to avoid the punishment of pain. Likewise, you will do what I say, because you want the reward of surviving this experience, and to avoid the punishment of Sunny’s death. So, I will ask you again, Violet. Will you marry me during tomorrow night’s performance?”

“Don’t do it, Violet,” Prospero hissed, tugging at her hair.

“Don’t listen to him,” Olaf said. “Come now, would it really be so terrible, being my bride? You’re such a pretty girl- after the wedding, I wouldn’t dispose of you like I would with the other two.” He sighed. “I know you’re young, but I’m sure you’d be able to handle the responsibility. You certainly _seem_ mature enough.”

And before Violet could say anything, he reached forward. For a split second, she thought he was going to touch her face, but then she realised he was reaching for her shoulder. No, not her shoulder. He was reaching for _Prospero._ She stepped back just in time, snatching the little hedgehog-dæmon off her shoulder and holding him close. Shaking with fear and revulsion, she forced herself to nod.

“Will you let Sunny go if Violet marries you?” Klaus asked, and Violet wondered if he’d noticed what had just happened.

“Oh, certainly- after tomorrow night’s performance. Now, come back inside, you have chores to do.” He turned, and walked back into the house. Violet lingered behind, just for a moment, her eyes travelling up the tower. It had to be at least thirty feet, and she had less than two days to figure out a way to get up there and rescue Sunny. Forcing herself to push what had just happened out of her mind, she tied up her hair, and began to think…

* * *

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Prospero asked, from where he was sitting in the sink. Violet frowned at him. She was sitting as close to the sink as she could get, not wanting to be too far from him- not after what had happened. She couldn’t afford to think about that, though, not now.

“Will you shut up? I’m trying to concentrate.” They were in Count Olaf’s bathroom, and Violet had her inventing materials spread out in front of her- the rock-retrieving machine and the curtains from the Baudelaires’ room, plus a couple of the rocks Olaf had left them. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could find. Whoever had taken Sunny had left the Baudelaires’ basket alone, thankfully, so her invention had still been intact when she’d taken it.

Removing the metal arm from the machine, she examined it. Would it be strong enough? It would have to be, she didn’t have time to make anything better.

“Can I just ask one thing?” Prospero asked. “What’s going to happen to me when you’re going up there? I can’t fly up with you, and you gave your cardigan to Sunny, so it’s not like I can ride up in that.”

“Technically I gave it to Olaf’s associate, after asking them to pass it to Sunny,” she corrected, remembering her earlier attempt to case the joint. “But I see your point. You’ll just have to sit up on my shoulder and hang on as tight as you can.”

“You know, I used to think my biggest problem would be being the odd dæmon out. Your parents’ dæmons could fly, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Lizzie settles as an owl, since she likes that form so much. I thought I’d be the only one without wings, and I thought that was a serious problem. But now...”

“Now Abraham and Finch are gone, and we have Olaf to worry about,” Violet finished, tying one of the curtains to the metal arm using a knot she was fond of, called the Devil’s Tongue. It was one of the strongest knots in the world, and had been invented by a group of Finnish female pirates. She added a few more curtains- the resulting rope was perhaps a little too long, but it was better than it being too short.

Finally, she used one of the rocks to bend the claw into a more suitable hook-like shape. She really didn’t like having to dismantle the last invention she’d built before everything went wrong, but she liked the thought of marrying Count Olaf even less. So, she continued working until she had a rudimentary grappling hook. Taking a deep breath, she brought it out into the garden.

It took several attempts for the hook to connect with something in the tower. Each time it failed and fell back to the ground, Violet grew more and more desperate. She threw it up again, and this time, thankfully, it connected. Tugging on it to make sure the connection was strong enough, she let out a sigh of relief.

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious,” she whispered. It was something her father used to say a lot, and saying it now gave her courage. “It is the source of all true art and science.” Taking another deep breath, she started to climb.

It took longer than she had hoped it would to climb the tower- for one thing, pulling herself up required a lot more effort and strength than she’d anticipated, and the further up she went, the more her arms and legs shook with the strain. Not only that, it was a windy night, and she had to stop several times for fear of falling.

Finally, finally, she reached the top of the tower. For a second, she was relieved. Sunny was still in one piece, and someone had allowed Oliver into the cage so he could sit in her lap in his mouse-form. Then she looked from Sunny to the tower room window, and realised she had made a huge mistake. Her grappling hook had not latched onto the windowsill, or onto something inside the room, as she’d hoped. Instead, it had latched onto one of the hooks belonging to Olaf’s hook-handed associate.

“Shit,” Prospero muttered, and Violet couldn’t agree with him more.


	4. Klaus

Chapter Four- Klaus

Klaus had been about to finally drift off to sleep when the bedroom door burst open. Alone apart from Lizzie, and shaken from the day’s events, he had spent most of the night either pacing the floor or lying awake, worrying about Violet, worrying about Sunny, worrying about what fates awaited all three of them soon. And all the while, Lizzie was beside him, voicing all of his worst fears.

It was almost a relief, therefore, when the door burst open to reveal Olaf’s hook-handed associate- even if his presence suggested that something had gone very wrong with Violet’s rescue plan.

“Come with me, Baudelaire,” he snapped.

“Where’s my sister?” Klaus asked, holding out his arm so that Lizzie could perch on it.

“You’ll find out in a second, just come with me.” Klaus really didn’t want to follow the man, but he didn’t see much of a choice. So, with a heavy heart, he allowed himself to be led from the room.

Violet was up in the tower room when they got there, and whilst Klaus was relieved to see her, the fact that she was up here, and Sunny was still in a cage, was enough to cancel out that feeling of relief.

“All orphans present and correct, over,” the hook-handed man said into his walkie-talkie. After a muffled reply, he sighed. “I mean, all three of the Baudelaire brats are here.” Another muffled reply. “Over’s just walkie-talkie slang for _I’m done talking, now it’s your turn._ ” Another muffled reply. “Yes, boss, I’ll be right down.” He shot a glare at the orphans. “You three will stay up here until it’s time for the performance, is that understood?” They all nodded, and he left.

As soon as he was gone, Klaus turned to look at his sisters. Sunny, he noted with some relief, had been reunited with Oliver, and Violet didn’t appear hurt.

“What happened?” he asked. “Why are we up here?”

“Why do you _think_ we’re up here?” Violet snapped. “I tried to rescue Sunny, and I failed, because I forgot to calculate for the possibility someone would actually be in here.”

“Wait- did you _climb_ all the way up here?”

“No, Klaus, I grew a pair of wings and flew. Yes, I climbed up here!”

“Will the two of you stop? We have bigger things to worry about than your squabbling!” Prospero cut in. And the sound of such a serious protest coming from such a tiny creature was enough to make both siblings smile, and forget their frustration for a little while.

“I’m sorry, Klaus- I’ve been trying to get us through this situation, and every time I’ve had any idea that might help, it’s fallen apart. And after what Olaf tried to do to Prospero earlier… it’s been a lot to deal with. I shouldn’t be taking that out on you, though.”

“I’m sorry, too- that was a thirty-foot climb, by the look of things, and it must’ve been terrifying.”

“It was- although it was nowhere near as terrifying as the prospect of marrying Olaf.” She sighed, and looked around the room. “Still, we can’t give up now- there’s got to be some- you have got to be kidding me.” Her eyes had landed on something bright white, laid out on an ancient chair. Walking over to it, she picked it up. It was a white dress, with a wide skirt, and a long train sitting on top of it.

“I don’t know who Olaf has designing his costumes,” Klaus said, biting back a smile, “but he should probably fire them.”

“This isn’t funny, Klaus!” Violet snapped. “We have less than twenty-four hours to fix this situation- this is serious.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Scanning the dim and dirty room, he sat down on the only free chair. “What can we do?”

“I don’t know- but there’s got to be something. If I still had the grappling hook, we could just climb back down the tower and run away, but it fell down after I was caught, so we’ll need something else.”

“Maybe there’s some kind of loophole we could find, to make the marriage invalid,” Klaus replied, wishing he still had that nuptial law book.

“Maybe- although if the fact that I’m underage isn’t enough to render it invalid, I’m not sure what will.”

“Let me handle that. Lizzie, can you remember the marriage requirements?”

“The laws of marriage in this community are very simple. The only requirements are the presence of a judge, a statement of “I do” by both the bride and the groom, and the signing of an explanatory document,” she recited.

“Thank you. Now, let me see if I can find anything in that we can work with, and you see if there’s anything you can invent to get us out of here.” Violet nodded, and Klaus got to work.

First, he took a piece of scrap paper from his pocket. _I really need to get some kind of notebook so I can do this sort of thing properly,_ he thought, and Lizzie echoed the sentiment. Then, he wrote down the requirements.

“So,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “We can’t do anything about Justice Strauss being there, and there’s not a huge amount we can do about the explanatory document-”

“Apart from setting it on fire,” Lizzie cut in, helpfully.

“We’re not setting it on fire- not if there’s another solution.” He frowned down at the list again. “So, that leaves us with the statement of “I do,” and the signature in the bride’s own hand.” The statement of I do also seemed pretty non-negotiable. If Violet said anything other than I do, Count Olaf could- and most certainly would- drop Sunny to her death.

“You know what that leaves you with, right?” Lizzie asked. Violet looked up from where she’d been hunting through a small collection of bottles.

“What? What does it leave us with?”

“It leaves us with the matter of the bride’s own hand,” he said. “Though that seems like the most impossible part to get around. I mean, it’s pretty self-explanatory, and you only have two hands-”

“Wait. I only have one dominant hand, though- and, maybe...”

“It’s a long shot,” Prospero added, starting to piece it together. “But it just might work.”

“What’s a long shot?” Lizzie asked. She’d flown out to the pole Sunny’s cage was hanging from, speaking to both her and Oliver in an attempt to calm them.

“I think Violet just had an idea that could help us get out of this mess,” Klaus said.

“The important thing now is that we keep it to ourselves,” Violet added. “If we get this right, we could not only put a stop to Olaf’s scheme, we could expose his plans to everyone there, and make sure he gets arrested.”

The day dragged after that. Occasionally, Klaus would think of something else that might help, if Violet’s plan didn’t work- but they couldn’t prove that Olaf wasn’t already married, so they couldn’t claim that this was bigamy and therefore illegal. And occasionally Violet would think of an invention that could help them in a more practical sense- but they didn’t have kerosene, so despite the vast abundance of empty wine bottles they couldn’t make Molotov cocktails.

About an hour before the performance, the siblings sank down onto the filthy floor. Lizzie flew over to perch on Klaus’s arm, and Prospero curled up in Violet’s lap. Violet looked down at the little hedgehog-dæmon,

“You should probably get changed,” Klaus said, as gently as he could. Violet snapped her head up and glared at him.

“I am _not_ wearing that thing!” she snapped, refusing to even look at the white gown.

“You know if you don’t put it on here,” Prospero pointed out, “someone else will do it for you, and it’ll probably be far more invasive and uncomfortable.” Violet was quiet for a moment, then with a heavy sigh, she got to her feet, and went over to the dress. Klaus turned his back while she got changed, and instead focused on watching Sunny.

“Don’t worry, Sunny- we’ll sort this out. You’re going to be okay.” He longed to be able to hold her, and hoped against hope that this would end with him holding onto his baby sister, knowing they were both safe at last.

“I think this might actually be worse than I thought,” Violet said, and Klaus turned to see that she’d finished changing into the white dress. He refused to think of it as a wedding dress, even though he knew that was what it was.

“How can you say that?” Prospero asked, in the lightest, dreamiest voice he could manage. “Why, a white dress with puffed sleeves is the highest ideal of earthly bliss, don’t you agree?”

“Pretty sure if Anne Shirley had to wear this, she’d reconsider her preferences- and her priorities,” Violet grumbled. “Klaus, could you hold onto my ribbon? I haven’t got anywhere to put it.”

For a moment, the mundane nature of the question took him aback. Then he saw how Violet’s hands were shaking as she held the ribbon out, and with a small, tentative smile, he took it.

“Yeah, I’ll look after it,” he said. Another costume had been left for him- a hideous blue and white sailor suit. Thankfully, though, it at least had pockets, and once he’d gotten changed, he tucked Violet’s ribbon into one pocket, and the brass spyglass into the other.

Shortly after, the trap door opened, and Count Olaf appeared. The hook-handed man was beside him, carrying his dæmon.

“Show time, Baudelaires. Now, remember- if anything goes wrong tonight, Hooky here will drop your sister to her death. We’ll be communicating through these walkie-talkies, so you’d better not try anything, either of you. Is that clear?”

They nodded, and both climbed down the stairs from the tower room. Klaus looked over his shoulder one more time at Sunny, before the trap door shut, separating them. Lizzie shifted into her cat-form, and Klaus held her close. He kept thinking about Violet’s plan, hoping it would work- no, _needing_ it to work. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if it failed, he couldn’t.

Despite himself, Klaus couldn’t help finding some small level of interest in what was going on backstage at the theatre. The play appeared to be quite minimalist, a word which here means, nobody but Olaf, the five members of his theatre troupe- apart from the hook-handed man- Justice Strauss and the Baudelaires seemed to be involved in it. It seemed strange, but then again, maybe Olaf just couldn’t find anyone else willing to participate.

The reduced number of cast and crew meant there wasn’t as much going on as there usually would be in a more normal theatre, but there was still far more than Klaus had ever seen in real life. The white-faced women were supposed to go on stage in a second, and he watched as they adjusted their wigs and carried out a few brief vocal exercises. Then the dark-haired henchperson gestured for them to go out on the stage.

“How much longer before we have to go out there?” Klaus asked, still holding on to Lizzie. He was answered by a loud bark.

“You two are up next, after intermission,” the bald man elaborated, from his position next to the ropes controlling the curtains. Klaus suspected he’d been put there on purpose to keep an eye on them. “Intermission means the break between acts.” Klaus bit back the urge to point out that he already knew what intermission meant.

“Remember,” barked his dæmon, and Klaus realised this was the first time he’d ever heard her speak. “You’re meant to stay put until it’s time for the wedding. If you try anything, then it’s curtains for your baby sister.”

Just then, the dark-haired henchperson made a cutting motion with their hand, and the bald man pulled on one of the ropes, presumably closing the curtains. Count Olaf entered the backstage area from one side, and then Justice Strauss came in on the other.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, smiling at the cast and crew. “I hope I’m not too late!”

“Quite the contrary, Justice Strauss! You’re just in time!”

“Did you bring the stage prop we discussed?” hissed the scarlet salamander, and Olaf sighed, shushing her. Again, Klaus was pretty sure he’d never heard Olaf’s dæmon speak, although her cold, hissing voice was more or less what he’d been expecting.

“Yes, I’ve got it right here!” Justice Strauss replied, brandishing a sheet of paper. “Who should I give it to?”

“Why don’t you hold onto it for now?” Olaf replied. “We wouldn’t want anything happening to it, would we?”

Intermission ended far too soon, and before Klaus could blink, he and his sister were being ushered out onto the stage. As Olaf yanked Violet’s arm so that she was standing beside him, Klaus looked out at the audience, trying to see if there was anyone out there who might be of help.

He saw Mr. Poe and his wife, who had a notepad in her lap. There would be no help from them, he thought bitterly, remembering the last time he’d seen the banker. The rest of the audience seemed pretty ordinary, and would also probably not be very helpful. The only exceptions seemed to be a woman in a red dress and a man in a black suit, who were each holding something long and thin up to their eyes. It was hard to tell what they were holding from here, but Klaus thought it looked familiar.

“Do you, Count Olaf,” began Justice Strauss, drawing Klaus’s focus back to the “play.” “Take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do,” Olaf said, smiling, and signed his name on the document. Klaus felt his arms tighten around Lizzie. _This is it,_ he thought. _In a few minutes, we’re either going to be free, or in even worse trouble than we currently are._

“And do you, Violet, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Violet bit her lip, then placed Prospero on her shoulder using her right hand. Then, with her left hand, she carefully signed her name.

At first, nothing happened. Justice Strauss pronounced them man and wife, and the white-faced women threw a bundle of rice at them. Then Olaf turned to smile at the audience.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to make an announcement. There is no need for this play to continue, for it has served its purpose. The play you saw today was not merely a work of fiction, it was a real, legally binding marriage ceremony. Meaning, I am now Violet’s legal husband, and thus in charge of her entire fortune.”

Klaus looked out to the audience again, at their shocked, horrified reactions. Once again, he noticed the couple at the back of the room- although this time, they had lowered their long, thin objects, and appeared to be holding them in their hands as though they were baseball bats. Whatever they were planning to do, Klaus hoped they would do it fast.

“That can’t be!”Justice Strauss protested. Olaf just rolled his eyes at her.

“It certainly met all the legal requirements- the presence of a judge, the signing of the document, and so on. Surely you can’t argue with that, can you, Justice Strauss?”

“But Violet’s just a child, she’s not old enough to marry!” Mr. Poe protested, and for once Klaus was on his side.

“Yes, we can all see this has to be illegal, can’t we?” Eugenie added, climbing up to sit on his shoulder.

“Certainly not!” Olaf countered. “As long as Violet has the permission of her legal guardian- which she does, by the way- she is free to do anything, including getting married.”

“What about the document?” Forseti asked, desperation creeping into his voice. “It’s not real, it’s only a stage prop!”

“If you actually bothered to look at it,” replied Olaf’s dæmon, “you would see that it is indeed an official document from the city hall, just as Olaf asked for.” Justice Strauss examined the document, frowning.

“She’s right,” she concluded. “This is an official legal document, and this is an official, legally binding marriage.” She closed her eyes. “I am so sorry, Baudelaires. I can’t believe I was so easily tricked!”

“You were easily tricked!” Olaf cried, triumphantly. “And now, if we’re quite done here, my bride and I really must be getting home for our wedding night.”

“First let Sunny and Oliver go!” Prospero burst out.

“Wait, where is Sunny?” Justice Strauss asked, looking around the stage.

“She’s a little tied up at the moment, if you’ll forgive the little joke.” He picked up his walkie-talkie and was about to speak into it, when the hook-handed man burst onto the stage, pushing Sunny and Oliver in a wheelbarrow.

“Sunny!” Klaus cried, darting forward to lift Sunny out of the wheelbarrow. Lizzie shifted into an owl, and perched on his head. Olaf glared at his henchman.

“She got a straight flush!” he said, by way of explanation.

“You were playing _poker_ with a _baby_ , and you somehow managed to lose?!” Olaf didn’t seem to know which part was worse.

“Excuse me!” Mr. Poe shouted, cutting through the argument. “There has got to be some kind of mistake here, there is no way this can be legally binding!”

“I’m afraid it is,” Justice Strauss replied, looking on the verge of tears. “The marriage meets all the legal requirements, there’s nothing that can be done.”

“Actually,” Violet said, and everyone turned to look at her. “I wouldn’t say there’s _nothing_ that can be done.”

“What was that, Countess?” Olaf asked.

“I’m not your countess,” Violet replied. “At least, I don’t think I am.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I didn’t sign the document in my own hand, as the law states.”

“Of course you did! We all saw you!”

“I’m afraid your husband is right, dear,” Justice Strauss added, gently. “As much as I wish it were otherwise, there are too many witnesses here for you to deny what happened.”

“But I didn’t sign it with my dominant hand, which is my right one. I signed it with my left hand.”

“That doesn’t count!” Olaf protested. “And anyway, you can’t prove it! Nobody even noticed you doing that.”

“I noticed,” Klaus countered. Lizzie and Prospero agreed with him. “She put Prospero on her shoulder with her right hand, and signed the document with her left. I can remember.”

“It still doesn’t count!” Olaf protested again.

“If you don’t mind, I think Justice Strauss should be the judge of that, don’t you?” countered Mr. Poe.

“Let me see,” Justice Strauss replied, and closed her eyes. For a few long moments, she was quiet, thinking it over. Klaus held tighter to Sunny, and Violet held tighter to Prospero, and everyone waited with bated breath. Finally, Justice Strauss smiled. “If Violet is indeed right-handed, and she signed the document with her left hand, then it follows that the signature does not meet the requirements of the nuptial laws. Those laws clearly state that the bride’s signature must be in her own, dominant hand. Therefore, we can safely conclude that this marriage is _invalid!_ Violet, you are _not_ a countess, and Count Olaf, you do _not_ have control of the Baudelaire fortune!”

“Maybe not now- but even if Violet isn’t my wife, she’s still my daughter, and-”

“Hold on just one second!” Mr. Poe cut in. “Do you seriously think I’m going to allow these children to stay with you for one moment longer? No, they’re going to come with me, and you’re going to go to jail.”

“I was just about to suggest that very thing,” replied a voice. Klaus turned, to see the woman in red and the man in black coming down the steps towards them. He noticed their dæmons for the first time- a monarch butterfly and a raven, respectively- as well as the items they’d been carrying. They were each holding long, brass spyglasses, much like the one in Klaus’s pocket.

“Jacquelyn?” Mr. Poe asked, frowning at the woman. “What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“I was kidnapped and tied to a tree- it’s a long story. This is Gustav Sebald, he’s the assistant of Dr. Montgomery, who the Baudelaires _should_ have been placed with.”

“Yes,” Gustav added. “Mon- Dr. Montgomery and I have been waiting for the children since the fire, and now we know what’s been taking them so long.”

“We’ll send them over first thing tomorrow, then- once we’ve collected their things from Count Olaf’s house, and they’ve gotten some- wait a second, where is Count Olaf?” Just as he said that, the lights went out.

They were only out for a minute or two, at which point a ticked-off theatre employee flicked them back on. And as Klaus looked around, it didn’t take him long to notice several things missing- namely, six nefarious people, and six equally nefarious dæmons. Olaf and his salamander had vanished, taking his troupe with him.

“Did anyone see where they went?” he demanded, but nobody seemed to have any answers.

“Let’s let the authorities handle it, Klaus. Wherever he’s gone, he can’t have gone far,” Mr. Poe replied. “Now, come on, it’s late, and we’ll have to leave early tomorrow.”

“Mr. Poe,” Justice Strauss spoke up. “Couldn’t I take the children? They’d be safe with me, I promise.”

“I’m sorry, but the Baudelaire will clearly states that the children can’t be raised by someone who isn’t a relative. And Dr. Montgomery, I now understand, was who the Baudelaire parents always had in mind to raise them.”

“He’s right,” said Jacquelyn. “Your parents had a vigorously fixed destination for you three, and it is not with Justice Strauss, or Count Olaf.”

“This vastly frightening detour was never supposed to happen,” added Gustav. “The only thing we can do now is get everything back on track as soon as possible.”

“But-” Klaus began. There were so many things he wanted to tell them, about what Justice Strauss had done, how she’d helped them, how they never would’ve survived this were it not for her.

“They’re right, Baudelaires,” Justice Strauss said, before Klaus could continue. “We have to respect your parents’ wishes.” She hugged each of the siblings in turn, and Forseti waved his long, fluffy tail at Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver. “Goodbye, children- maybe I’ll see you all again someday.”

“Goodbye,” Violet said, and with a heavy heart, the siblings allowed Mr. Poe to guide them away from Justice Strauss, and out of the theatre. Jacquelyn, Gustav and Mrs. Poe followed them out.

“I’ll hope to see you children tomorrow,” Gustav said, giving each of them a polite nod. “You’ll finally be in safe hands then.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away down the street, his dæmon flying just above his head. Jacquelyn also smiled at the three orphans, and walked away in the opposite direction.

“Come along now,” Mr. Poe said, and led them to his car. As the three Baudelaires climbed into the back of the car and drove towards Count Olaf’s house for the final time, they couldn’t shake the feeling that they had not seen the last of the vile villain, and that their troubles, however numerous they had been so far, were only just beginning.


	5. Violet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Baudelaires meet their new guardian, Violet has trust issues, and the sound of a doorbell ringing spells disaster...

Chapter Five: Violet

The drive out to Dr. Montgomery’s house was one of the least pleasant journeys Violet could remember taking- and that included the time her parents had taken the five of them to a tiny, seaside town that apparently meant something to someone who meant something to them.

This journey was unpleasant for different reasons, though. The previous one had just been long and uninteresting. This one was long, uninteresting and horrendously bad smelling.

“What is that smell?” Violet asked her brother. They were all exhausted, and Violet in particular was still reeling from all that had happened the previous night. But she wanted to find some form of distraction, and listening to Klaus talk sounded like as good a distraction as any.

“I read a book once on local geography. Apparently there’s a horseradish factory near here, so that probably explains the smell.” He paused, and looked at Mr. Poe. “Can I ask, how exactly is Dr. Montgomery related to us?”

“Well now, let me see how this breaks down. He’s your… late father’s cousin’s wife’s brother.”

“Banleg,” Sunny replied, a confused frown on her face. _That sounds more like the beginning of an urban legend than anything else._

“If that’s the case,” Klaus replied, “What should we call him?”

“Klaus, didn’t you hear that nice young man at the theatre last night? You’ll call him Dr. Montgomery, just like he did.” He paused. “Although, he might ask you to call him by his first name, in which case you should call him Montgomery.”

“His name is… Montgomery Montgomery?” Lizzie asked, tilting her head to one side.

“Yes, and I’m sure he’s very sensitive about that, so be sure not to ridicule him about it. Ridicule means tease,” Poe replied.

“We know what ridicule means,” Klaus said, shaking his head.

Finally, they reached the end of the smelly lane, and parked outside a lovely, clean house, surrounded by neat green lawns and bushes cut into the shapes of various snakes. Mr. Poe led the Baudelaires towards the bright white door.

“What do you think Dr. Montgomery will be like?” Prospero asked, speaking just loud enough for Violet to hear.

“I don’t know- I want to believe he’ll be better than Count Olaf, but what if he’s even worse?” Violet whispered in reply, giving voice to some of her own worst fears. She tried to push those thoughts aside, though, as she approached the door, and Mr. Poe pressed the doorbell.

“Now, you three had better behave yourself!” he warned, just as the door opened, and the Baudelaires’ new guardian appeared.

“Hello, hello, hello!” he said, and Violet glanced at her siblings and frowned at them, as she held Sunny a little tighter. Then she looked up at the man, who she assumed was Dr. Montgomery. He had light brown skin, curly dark hair and a wiggly moustache. His dæmon, a large, dark green snake, was wound around his shoulders. “You must be the Baudelaires!”

“How- how do you do?” Violet managed. Her first impression of Dr. Montgomery was far better than the one she’d had of Count Olaf, but still, she couldn’t help feeling nervous about him.

“I’m doing quite well, Violet!” Dr. Montgomery replied. “Now, come in, all of you! I just finished preparing a delicious coconut cream cake!” He led them all into a bright, clean entrance hall, and picked up three slices of cake, offering one to Violet, and one to Klaus.

“Would you like one, Sunny?” he asked. His dæmon raised her head at that.

“If she doesn’t want it,” she said, in a warm, hissing voice. “Can I have it?”

“Now now, let’s not be rude, Antonia,” Dr. Montgomery said, patting her on the head. “What do you think, Sunny?” Sunny looked at the cake, and shook her head.

“My sister prefers hard foods instead of soft ones,” Violet said, by way of explanation.

“Hm, that is unusual for a baby, but not so for many snakes. Perhaps, instead, Sunny would like a raw carrot?” He produced one from his bright orange shirt pocket, and Sunny took it gladly. “Well, Antonia, looks like you might be getting your slice of cake after all!” He laughed. “I’m just kidding- you can have it, Mr. Poe.”

“No, that’s quite alright- I really must be going, I’m already going to be late for the bank.” He smiled at the Baudelaires. “Which reminds me, if any of you need-”

“They won’t be needing anything from you, Mr. Poe, not now that they’re here in my care. They will have everything they need- I fully intend to dedicate as much of my time to their care as I have to my research.”

“Nobody can access our fortune until Violet comes of age!” Klaus blurted out.

“Klaus, don’t be rude- although, legally, he is correct.” Mr. Poe said.

“I don’t care one little bit about the Baudelaire fortune! My salary from the Herpetological Society is more than enough! Although, I do admire your scepticism, Klaus- it’s perfectly understandable after what you children have been through.”

“Ah yes, the unpleasantness with Count Olaf,” Mr. Poe replied, which earned frowns from everyone else in the room. “I think I’ll see myself out,” he said, walking towards the door.

“What a wonderful idea!” Dr. Montgomery replied, and ushered him out of the house. Violet suspected that he was no more sad to see him go than the Baudelaires were. Once he was gone, Dr. Montgomery closed the door, and turned to face the Baudelaires. “I’m sorry if I seemed rude, children, but that man really ruffles my scales. Unpleasantness with Count Olaf? Why, if it wasn’t for him, you’d never have been placed with Count Olaf in the first place!” He sighed. “Well, enough of that. I believe some introductions are in order, and then I’ll show you to your rooms?”

“Our rooms?” Violet asked, tentatively. “You mean, we get our own?”

“Well, if you want to, certainly. I prepared three rooms upstairs, and if you want to use any one, two or three of them, you are more than welcome. It’s entirely up to you- all groups of siblings are different, aren’t they? Now, introductions. I am Dr. Monty Montgomery, although I much prefer going by my first name. I only like using fancy titles if they get me a ticket to the movies. And this is Antonia.”

“Pleased to meet you,” hissed Antonia. “Do you all like going to the movies?”

“When we have the chance, yes, but our parents didn’t take us very often,” Violet replied.

“Well,” Antonia said. “That’s all about to change.” She pointed her tail at Prospero. “Now, I know your name is Violet, but what is your name?”

“Prospero,” replied Prospero.

“Ah!” Monty exclaimed. “From Shakespeare’s The Tempest, I believe?” Violet nodded. “That was one of your father’s favourite plays.”

“Can you guess where our names come from?” chirped Lizzie. “I’m Lizzie, short for Elizabeth, and that’s Oliver.” Monty was quiet for a moment, thinking it over.

“Elizabeth Bennett, Pride and Prejudice, and Oliver Twist, from the novel of the same name. Both excellent characters, in excellent novels.” He smiled, and led the way up the stairs.

The bedroom that the Baudelaire siblings chose was as different from their old room in Count Olaf’s house as any room could possibly be. It was large, warm, and filled with enough toys and books to occupy all of them for a long time to come.

“Would you like some time to settle in?” Monty asked. “Or would you like a tour first?” Violet looked at her siblings. Personally, she did want a tour, but she didn’t want to go on that tour alone.

“A tour sounds wonderful,” Klaus replied, which gave Violet the courage to agree with him.

Monty led them back down the stairs, past numerous photographs of reptiles, amphibians and even a few people- none of which the children got a close enough look at to be able to recognise. If they had, of course, they would’ve seen a couple of familiar faces, one or two belonging to people they were yet to meet, and even some they would never meet.

“There’s a story behind every single picture on this wall, Baudelaires,” Monty said, stopping beside a picture of a piano. “Like this one, of your parents and I.”

“But there’s nobody in that picture,” Klaus pointed out.

“We’re inside the piano,” Monty replied, sighing wistfully. “We were so young.” With one last look at the photo, he was continued down the stairs, and round to a door with a great many cables and machines attached to it. Violet stared at the door in fascination, wondering how each of the various mechanisms worked.

“What do these devices do?” she asked.

“These are for security purposes,” Monty explained. “For the collection behind this door is the envy of the herpetological world- do you three know what herpetology is?” Klaus frowned.

“Well, I know that -ology means the study of, and as there’s so many pictures of snakes around here, my guess is that it’s the study of snakes.”

“Excellent work, Klaus!” Monty exclaimed. “Now, the security of this collection is of the utmost importance. The only way to access it is through this door, which requires fifteen locks, twelve combinations, five fingerprints and two retinal scans. Or, as I share with only my most trusted associates, by turning this doorknob, right here.” He then turned the aforementioned doorknob, and the door swung open.

Dr. Montgomery’s reptile room was unlike anything Violet, Klaus or Sunny had ever seen. The ceiling was made of glass, allowing the morning sun to illuminate the room. The walls were not made of glass, but they had large windows, which let in even more light. There were cages and tanks in a variety of shapes and sizes all over the place, each one containing a new strange and unusual creature.

“You’re all welcome to explore- if you have any questions about any of my discoveries, I will be happy to answer them,” Monty said, walking around and opening a couple of cages. A lizard came flying out of one, and landed on his arm. “This is the flying lizard- note his yellow belly, a sign of camouflage and cowardice.” He lifted his arm, and the lizard flew around the room.

As the children explored the reptile room, Lizzie and Oliver shifted from form to form, trying to imitate as many of the creatures as they could. Violet watched as they slithered and crawled and flew around the room, wishing, for the first time since it had happened, that Prospero hadn’t settled, so he could join them. But he couldn’t shift any more than Violet could shake her tension and worry, and feel the same joy and innocence that her siblings- certainly Sunny, if not Klaus- could in this place.

“Doesn’t Prospero want to join in?” Monty asked, gesturing to the little hedgehog-dæmon. He wasn’t standing very close, but he was standing close enough, and Violet felt a wave of panic crash over her, and she plucked Prospero from her shoulder, clutching him close.

“You leave him alone!” she shouted, backing away. “You just leave him _alone!”_ Before anyone could say anything, she ran out of the room.

No sooner had she closed the door behind her and started to walk back down the corridor, though, than she heard a scream. Throwing open the door, she ran back in, to find Sunny sitting on the floor, a huge black snake coiled around her.

“What happened? What the hell is that thing? Why aren’t you getting her away from it? Get her away from it!” she demanded of her guardian, who actually had the nerve to be laughing. “This isn’t funny!” Leaning down, she snatched Sunny out of the heavy black coils, holding her close. “Are you okay?” she asked her sister, who, fortunately seemed unharmed. In fact, she was trying to wriggle away from Violet, like she wanted to get back to the snake.

“Don’t worry about Sunny- she’s just fine. The Incredibly Deadly Viper wouldn’t hurt her- it wouldn’t even hurt a fly, let alone a baby.”

“The _what?”_ Violet asked, incredulously. Sunny giggled, reaching out her little hand to try and touch the snake.

“Inky!” she squealed, settling for pointing at the creature. “Inky Inky Inky!”

“That’s a good nickname, Sunny- I might have to start calling it that,” Monty replied. Antonia slithered down to the ground, and sat beside the snake.

“Don’t worry, Violet,” she hissed. “The Incredibly Deadly Viper is one of the friendliest, least dangerous creatures in the whole animal kingdom!”

“… But it’s called the Incredibly Deadly Viper!” Prospero pointed out.

“It’s a misnomer,” Monty replied. “Do you know what that means?”

“A very wrong name?” Klaus asked. Violet blinked at him. How could he be thinking of definitions at a time like this?

“A very fitting definition!” Monty agreed. Violet frowned, feeling slightly confused. Why had he phrased it like that, rather than just saying that Klaus had got it right?

“Why would you give your own discovery a very wrong name?” she asked.

“Because, Violet, I’m intending to play a little joke on all those stuffed-shirts at the Herpetological Society. I’m going to present the Incredibly Deadly Viper, and then claim it has escaped! That should put an end to their years of mockery- ‘Hello, hello, Montgomery Montgomery!’ ‘How do you do, how do you do, Montgomery Montgomery!’”

“You think you have it bad?” Antonia asked. “My name isn’t even duplicated like yours is, but it might as well be! If I’m called Antonia Antonia one more time...” she trailed off, and Violet decided that she didn’t want to know what she would do if that happened.

“Dr. Montgomery,” Klaus began. “Are there any reptiles in here that _are_ dangerous?”

“Of course- but don’t worry. Their cages are securely locked- I had the locks fitted specially, in fact, so nobody can open them.” He smiled at the three Baudelaires, before reaching down to pick up Antonia and allow her to wrap herself around his shoulders again. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, Baudelaires- you’re safe in here. Now, I know a few dangerous reptiles may make you sceptical of the whole lot of them. But, if you give them a chance, and you get to know them well enough, to tell the dangerous from the good, then I promise you- no harm will come to you in the reptile room.”

After that conversation, the Baudelaires found themselves settling into life with Dr. Montgomery surprisingly easy. Monty did not ask them to carry out any difficult chores- instead, he gave them free reign in the reptile room, encouraging them to read any books they found interesting, and feed the reptiles which were safe to interact with. He wanted to take them to Peru soon, so they were advised to focus on researching Peruvian geography and culture, but other than that they were free to do as they pleased.

Monty had also made no moves to hurt them so far, and he was yet to bring any friends over, terrible or otherwise. There had been no sign of Gustav, the young man with the raven-dæmon whom they’d met at the theatre, but Monty only said that he’d resigned unexpectedly, and his replacement was due any day now.

Overall, Monty seemed different from Olaf in every conceivable way, and Violet only wished that they’d been placed with him from the start. If they had, then so many things would never have happened- including the one only she knew about, Olaf’s last whispered warning before he’d disappeared into the darkness.

She’d had a nightmare about him the first night, about all the horrible things he’d done, and the horrible things he would’ve most certainly done if she hadn’t signed that document with her left hand. She had hoped nobody would notice anything was wrong, but she’d woken up crying, and Klaus had gone to fetch Monty.

Monty brought her down to the reptile room, and gave her a mug of hot chocolate. He set down a can of whipped cream and a bag of marshmallows beside her, and Violet squirted a small pile of cream onto the cup.

“Is everything alright?” Monty asked, gently. Violet squeezed her eyes shut, head tilted down towards the table. “Violet?”

“I… I had a bad dream,” she replied, feeling at least ten years younger. Which just made her feel even worse, because ten years ago she would’ve had her parents to turn to in a situation like this, not an eccentric scientist she’d just met that day.

“I thought as much,” Monty replied. Antonia slithered over to the table where Prospero was sitting next to the closed bag of marshmallows, and curled up on the floor close by, giving him the option to crawl down and sit next to her. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Violet opened her eyes, and took a sip of hot chocolate. She opened the bag of marshmallows, and took out a few, giving them to Prospero. She didn’t know how much Monty knew about what had happened while the Baudelaires had lived with Count Olaf- she assumed he knew about the wedding plan, but she doubted he knew anything else. Meaning he didn’t know what he’d tried to do to Prospero.

“Violet,” Monty began. “Would this have anything to do with what happened earlier?” She didn’t have to ask what he meant.

“That’s part of it,” she said. “You… You know Count Olaf tried to marry me?” Monty nodded. “That was part of what the dream was about, what might have happened if he’d succeeded. But it was also...” She trailed off, afraid to reveal what had happened, afraid he would think it was stupid, because Olaf hadn’t actually touched Prospero.

“He tried to touch me,” Prospero concluded, though he didn’t look up from his marshmallows as he said it. Monty said nothing at first, and when Violet looked up, he was horrified.

“He… He did _what?”_ All Violet could do was nod.

“Yes,” she replied. One word, but it was all she could manage. She took a long drink of her hot chocolate. “He didn’t… He didn’t manage it, though.”

“Even if he didn’t manage it, the fact that he even tried...” he closed his eyes, then opened them again, turning his full attention to Violet. “Violet, I want you to understand that no part of what happened was your fault. You’re a child, and Count Olaf was supposed to be looking after you. He’s to blame for what happened, not you.”

Violet nodded, taking in his words. She didn’t really want to talk about this any more, and after stammering out words to that effect to Uncle Monty, he nodded.

“Alright, that’s understandable. But I’ll be here if you want to take about it again, okay?”Violet nodded, finished the last of her hot chocolate, and went back to bed, Prospero in his usual place on her shoulder.

After that night, things got a bit easier. Violet was disappointed to learn that most of the devices on the door were only for show, and quickly got to work inventing proper locks, because you never could be too careful. Klaus found a dark blue notebook on Uncle Monty’s desk, and once he got their guardian’s approval, started using it to take notes on the books he was reading in the reptile room. And Sunny played with the Incredibly Deadly Viper and the other friendly reptiles, though she seemed disappointed to learn that she couldn’t necessarily play with them the same way she would with Oliver.

“No talk?” she asked one day, while feeding a particularly large tortoise whose name Violet had forgotten. Uncle Monty and Antonia had gone into town to get some supplies for their expedition to Peru, and the Baudelaires were working in the reptile room.

“Sunny, only dæmons can talk,” Violet replied, glancing up from the lock machine she was working on. Then the Broken Hearted Crocodile pushed open a flap in one of the walls, entering the room.

“Woe is me!” he croaked. “Woe is me!”

“Talk!” Sunny said, pointing at the crocodile triumphantly.

“Sunny, that doesn’t count. Uncle Monty said the Broken Hearted Crocodile’s cries happen to resemble human speech.” Sunny folded her arms and frowned at the crocodile, then she crawled over to where the Incredibly Deadly Viper was curled on the floor.

“Inky will play with us,” Oliver said, shifting into a smaller version of the long black snake. “Inky’s our friend.”

Later, after Violet finished her invention, she decided to take a crack at some of the books. She pulled out an atlas, and found a map of Peru. She’d never given much of a thought to studying maps or geography, but this one was interesting, and once she’d checked the key it was easy to understand.

“Violet,” Klaus called, interrupting her thoughts. Setting the atlas down, she walked over to where he was standing, at Uncle Monty’s desk. “Look at this.” He’d found a set of blueprints, detailing the design of Uncle Monty’s garden. More specifically, the design of his labyrinth. “Why does Uncle Monty’s labyrinth look like the eye tattoo on Count Olaf’s ankle?”

“I don’t know, but...” She trailed off, not sure how to explain it, justify it. “Maybe there’s more to all this than it seems.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Klaus replied, frowning down at the blueprint. “I know it might not be what it looks like, but… what if it’s not? What if Monty is...”

“I know you’re worried, Klaus, and I know this looks really, really bad, but Monty’s been a good guardian to us so far. There’s no way he could be in cahoots with-” Before she could finish her sentence, the doorbell rang.

The elder Baudelaires exchanged a look, and even Sunny dropped the wooden baby block she’d been biting, crawling away from the Incredibly Deadly Viper and over to her siblings. Violet frowned, and picked her up.

“It’s probably just Uncle Monty’s new assistant, Stephano,” Klaus said. Violet nodded in agreement, trying to ignore the churning, anxious feeling building in her stomach. Why was she worried? Taking a deep breath, she led the way out of the reptile room, down the hall and towards the main door. Shooting one last glance at her brother, she opened the door.

There was a man standing in the doorway, dressed in a long white coat and black trousers. He was bald, with a long, grey beard, and a pair of round, thick glasses. It didn’t stop Violet from knowing exactly who he was- because even if his long eyebrow was gone, even if his trouser leg was long enough to cover his ankles, even the thickest glasses couldn’t hide his shiny, shiny eyes, and there was no mistaking the scarlet salamander perching on his shoulder.


	6. Klaus

Chapter Six- Klaus

Klaus couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How had Count Olaf managed to find them _here,_ and so soon? And who exactly did he think he was going to fool with that disguise?

“Good morning! I am Stephano, Dr. Montgomery Montgomery’s new assistant!” Even his voice had been disguised, but Klaus wasn’t convinced.

“It’s afternoon. And you’re Count Olaf,” he replied, hoping he sounded braver than he felt.

“Would one of you mind helping me with my luggage?” Olaf asked, ignoring him. “The drive along Lousy Lane was long and unpleasant, and Stephano is very tired.”

“You’re Count Olaf, and if anyone deserved to travel along Lousy Lane it’s you. We will not help you with your luggage, and we will not let you into this house,” Violet said, and shut the door.

Or at least, she would’ve done, had Olaf not, at that moment, stuck a knife in the door, preventing it from closing. He pushed it open, and the children backed away into the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, Klaus spotted Prospero climbing down from Violet’s shoulder and settling beside her feet, where Olaf couldn’t easily grab him. Apart from noticing that, though, all his attention was on Olaf.

“Well,” he said, ditching his ridiculous fake voice. “I see you three haven’t changed a bit. Violet, you’re as prickly as ever. Klaus, you still have those annoying glasses, from reading too many books. And I see little Sunny here still has nine toes instead of ten.” He had backed them up towards the stairs now, forcing them to keep climbing up to stay away from him.

“What… What are you talking about?” Klaus asked, fighting back his fear at what Olaf had said. “Our sister has ten toes, like the vast majority of people.” His mother had always told them to avoid saying things like “just like everyone else,” because everyone was different, and few things were truly universal. Weird that he’d remember something like that at a time like this.

“That’s funny,” Olaf mused, casually waving the knife around. His dæmon tilted her head to one side, too, like she was also thinking this strange matter over. “I could’ve sworn she lost one of her toes in a horrible accident. I believe a man named Stephano got so confused about being called by the wrong name that he accidentally dropped a knife, and severed one of her little toes.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Violet said, glaring at their former guardian. Now the salamander was _smirking_ at them.

“Now, now, let’s not discuss what we would or wouldn’t do,” she hissed, her cold voice so different from Antonia’s. “Instead, let’s discuss your poor, dead parents.” They’d stopped beside the picture of the piano, and both Olaf and his dæmon were pointing at it, one with the knife, one with a long, red tail.

“That’s not a picture of our parents!” Klaus pointed out, even though, of course, he knew for a fact that it was.

“Yes it is, they’re inside the piano!”

“How do you know that?” Lizzie asked. Olaf looked at her like she was stupid.

“I’m the one who took the picture,” he said, simply. “All the pictures lost, all those precious memories consigned to history, yet that one still remains. Well, that photo and their enormous fortune, of course.”

“You’ll never get your hands on our fortune!” Klaus snapped. Olaf shrugged.

“I think we’ve established that I can _get my hands_ on whatever I want, haven’t we?” he replied, directing this at Violet, who took a couple more steps away from him, Prospero a few steps behind her. “Besides, forever is a long time, and your ridiculous uncle will be back any second now. And then-”

But he didn’t finish, because just then, the screeching iguana clock sprung to life, announcing the hour. Olaf was caught off guard, and the Baudelaires seized their opportunity to escape. They fled down the stairs, Lizzie quickly grasping Prospero in her claws so he didn’t get left behind.

“Ow!” Violet hissed, and Klaus knew she could feel Lizzie’s talons digging into her, just as they were digging into Prospero.

“Sorry!” he said, just before he dropped the spyglass. It went rolling down the stairs, and Oliver went slithering after it. He wrapped his thin black tail around it, before leading the way towards the reptile room. Klaus threw the door open, and all three Baudelaires entered the room. He slammed it shut and leaned against it, hoping that all the locks and machines would be enough to fool Olaf.

“Open this door right now!” Olaf demanded, proving that, in this at least, Klaus had guessed correctly.

“What do we do?” he asked, taking a few tentative, quiet steps away from the door. He noticed that Oliver had dropped the spyglass and went to curl around Sunny, and he picked it up almost mechanically and tucked it back into his pocket, not having the energy to check if it was damaged. “Violet?” His older sister was sitting on the floor, hugging her knees to her chest, Prospero curled up beside her.

“I should’ve known this would happen,” she muttered, so quietly Klaus almost didn’t hear her. “He _said_ this would happen- I just didn’t think it would- I thought-”

“Violet, what are you talking about?” He sat down beside her, not reaching out to touch her just yet, sensing that this probably wasn’t a good time.

“Before Olaf disappeared,” Prospero explained, “he told Violet that he would hunt us down and get our fortune, whatever it took. We should’ve said something, but we didn’t want to scare you.” Klaus went to reply, but was cut off by yet more pounding on the door.

“Baudelaires, I demand that you open this door at once!”

“Violet,” Klaus said, turning to his sister. “Look, I know you’re scared, but we need a plan. We need to do what Mother was always saying, and get scared later.”

“You- you’re right,” Violet agreed, getting to her feet and unwrapping her ribbon from around her left wrist. Quickly, she tied up her hair. “Okay,” she said, pulling the ribbon tight. “What are our options?”

“We could break out the window and run away. We could go to the nearest town, we could get jobs, we could-”

“Klaus,” Violet interrupted. “You know he’d just find us again, wherever we went. Besides, we’re too young to get any kind of job- not to mention one of us would need to look after Sunny.”

“I could do that!” Oliver piped up. Lizzie sighed, and shook her head.

“Dæmons can’t be babysitters, everyone knows that.”

“Will you two be quiet?” Prospero cut in. “We’re trying to think of a better plan.” Before they could, though, there was a honking noise outside.

“Monty’s back!” Klaus said, managing a smile. Hopefully their guardian would see right through Olaf’s disguise, just like they had.

For a while, there was silence. The Baudelaires couldn’t see or hear what was going on, they could only wait with bated breath until Monty gave them the all clear that it was safe to come out. Finally, they heard footsteps approaching the door, and their guardian’s voice.

“Is everything alright in there, Baudelaires?” he called.

“Yes, Uncle Monty!” Violet replied. Klaus looked from her to the door, unable to quite believe that Monty was really back, and they might be safe now. A matter of hours ago, he’d been looking forward to Monty’s return because Monty had promised to get him an arm guard for Lizzie. Olaf’s return had changed his priorities completely, though- now, all he wanted Monty to do was expose his new “lab assistant” and send him to jail.

“Just give me a chance to undo all these top security measures, and I’ll be right with you!” He was speaking louder than usual, and Klaus wondered if it was for Olaf’s benefit as well as theirs. When Monty started imitating the sounds of gears turning and locks opening, his suspicions were confirmed. Monty didn’t want “Stephano” to know that the locks were all fake, and they were going to be replaced with real ones after the Peru trip. “Retinal scan one!” Monty said, and made a buzzing noise. “Retinal scan two!” Another buzzing noise. “There we go!” he said, and opened the door.

“Hello, Uncle Monty!” Klaus said, not even realising that this was the first time he’d called his guardian that.

“Hello, Baudelaires! Now, I am so sorry that you were frightened by that man just there!” He was still speaking loudly, shooting occasional glances over his shoulder. Antonia stuck out her forked tongue, and Klaus suspected that if she could wink, then she would.

“It’s understandable that you were alarmed,” Monty continued, “seeing as he chased you up and down the stairs with a knife. Not to worry, though, he is just my new assistant, Stephano. I’ve seen his papers, and everything is in order!” He gestured to the Baudelaires, indicating that it was their turn to join in.

“Oh yes, of course!” Violet said, raising her voice just as Uncle Monty had. “How silly we were to be afraid!”

Yes, it was rather silly!” Monty agreed. “Not to worry, Stephano has explained to me that he has a very strict fitness regimen, where he has to run up and down the stairs brandishing a knife at least three times a day. So, that makes perfect sense.” As he said that, though, he twirled his index finger next to his ear, indicating that to him it was anything but logical. It gave Klaus a bit of hope- perhaps Monty hadn’t been fooled by Stephano after all.

“I might join him on that exercise regimen!” Violet replied. Monty covered his mouth with one hand, like he was trying really hard not to laugh.

“So, now that we’ve gotten that cleared up, would the three of you mind helping me bring in everything from my truck? I got all my shopping done, and I even brought takeout for dinner. There should be enough for all of us, including Stephano!”

The Baudelaires followed Monty out to his van. Antonia and Oliver slithered along beside them, the larger snake-dæmon going slower to allow the smaller one to keep up.

“That reminds me,” Monty said, noticing Lizzie perching on the hood of the car. “I never got your arm guard, Klaus.” He shook his head. “Well, no matter- we might be able to find something in the house that’ll do just as well. Now, help me carry this canoe in.”

Klaus complied, though he was a little disappointed. Before the Baudelaire fire, he had assumed that, were Lizzie to settle as an owl, then his father would give him his first arm guard, which had been given to him years ago by the woman he called his mother, but who technically wasn’t. But that guard had burned, along with everything else, and until now, he hadn’t felt brave enough to ask somebody for one. It wasn’t an immediate concern, he supposed, but he would be thirteen in a few months, and after that, Lizzie could settle at any time, and he wanted to be prepared.

Once Klaus, Violet and Monty had their heads hidden in the canoe, Monty gave the children a serious look- they were done acting, Klaus guessed.

“I am so sorry, children!” Monty whispered. “I had no idea our enemies would catch up to us so soon! It’s clear now that I can’t turn my back, not even for a second.”

“So you recognised him?” Klaus asked, relief creeping into his voice.

“Of course I recognised him! I’m not some dim-witted banker, or a starry-eyed judge who can’t see what’s right in front of me!” He sighed. “He can wear as many lab coats as he wants, and present me with as many absurd papers as he wants, he’s no more a lab assistant than I’m a three-mouthed Brazilian waxed turtle!”

“So what should we do?” Violet asked. “Should we call the authorities?”

“Don’t be absurd! Do you think that when I was climbing Mount Felix searching for the goat-eating cobra, that I called the authorities? No, of course not! If we call the police, or Mr. Poe, or the official fire department, that so-called lab assistant will have us in his clutches long before they can ever get here. And we all know Stephano does not work alone. We must keep a close eye on him. He will join us for dinner, and then we'll invite him to the movies tonight. A man that dastardly must be watched like a hawk.”

“That’s _it?”_ Lizzie squawked, incredulously. “That’s all we’re gonna do, just keep an eye on him?”

“For the time being, yes. I know it’s frustrating, Baudelaires, but for now it’s all we can do. We must be very, very careful- we can’t turn our backs for even a second.”

By now, Monty had set the canoe down. Conveniently, at that exact moment, something large and brass came flying out of the window, hitting Monty on the head and knocking him to the ground.

“Oh my God, Monty, are you okay?” Violet asked, crouching down beside him. Klaus followed suit, taking note of what had hit him- one of the brass reading lamps from the room above them. Looking up, he was not remotely surprised to see Olaf peering out the open window.

“So sorry!” he called down to them. “I seem to have been very careless with this large brass reading lamp, I did not mean for it to fall out while you were walking past, Dr. Montgomery!”

“Don’t worry about it, Stephano! It’s completely understandable, these things happen all the time!”

“Well, sorry anyway!” It was the most disingenuous apology Klaus had ever heard in his life, and even if Monty didn’t seem fazed by what had happened, Antonia’s grumbling and rubbing of her head with her tail suggested otherwise.

“We know that room,” she hissed, “as well as Monty knows the bone structure of the Osteoporosis Lizard. There is no way that lamp would’ve been near that window. It is a completely redundant design choice, having a lamp so close to a source of natural light like that.”

“It’s more than redundant,” Klaus said. “It’s villainous!” He turned to Monty. “Uncle Monty, I really think we should call the authorities!”

“I know you’re worried, Klaus, but you have nothing to fear! I may be a world-renowned herpetologist, but I also minored in Criminology. I know what I’m doing.” Klaus really, really hoped that was true.

Later that evening, the Baudelaires, Monty and Olaf were all gathered around the table, eating the Chinese take away Monty had bought them. Lizzie and Oliver had shifted into mice, to better hide from the terrifying man across from them, and Prospero was in his usual spot on Violet’s shoulder. Antonia was draped across Monty’s shoulders, and appeared quite relaxed, except for the fact that she had not taken her eyes off Olaf’s dæmon, who was all but smirking back at her.

“Let’s eat quickly now, or we’ll be late for the movie- and I think it’s one you three are going to like, so we can’t miss it.”

“Dr. Montgomery, I’ve been thinking,” Olaf began. “I won’t be joining you at the movies tonight. I would much prefer to stay here and read up on poisonous venoms. Besides, I don’t particularly like going to the theatre- not when it’s so much easier these days to watch movies at home.”

“Oh come now, Stephano! You must come- this is to celebrate your arrival, after all! In fact, I insist you come!” Klaus shot Monty a look, but his guardian just smiled. Antonia stuck her tongue out at him again, though, so he felt a little better, assuming this was a part of Monty’s plan.

“I insist on staying here!” Olaf countered.

“Well, with all due respect, Stephano, we have only just met- I really don’t feel comfortable leaving a virtual stranger alone with my reptiles. Surely you understand?”

“Fine,” Olaf conceded, sighing. “But may I make a quick phone call first?”

“Certainly!” Monty said, brightly. “The phone’s in the parlour.” Klaus shuddered at the thought of who that phone call was for. He had a horrible suspicion that it was for one of Olaf’s five dreadful friends, though he didn’t want to know which one.

Once Olaf had placed his phone call, the five of them piled into Monty’s van. To the Baudelaires’ dismay, Monty ended up needing to check something before they could go, leaving the children alone with Olaf. It did not take long for Olaf to draw out his knife, and start calmly cleaning his grimy nails with it.

“We don't know what you're up to, but we will find out,” Klaus said, before he could think better of it. “If anything happens to my sisters or me, you'll never get your hands on the Baudelaire fortune.”

“Trust me, orphan, if I wanted to harm you, your blood would be streaming out of this car like a waterfall. No, I am not going to harm so much as a hair on any Baudelaire head. At least, not on purpose. But accidents happen all the time, don't they?” He turned to face them, holding up the knife. But before he could make good on his threat, the car door opened. Quick as a whip, Olaf turned around, tucked the knife away and put his glasses back on. “And that is when I said, the frog is the greatest reptile known to man!” he said, in his accented Stephano voice.

“But a frog is an amphibian,” Monty pointed out, frowning. “Stephano, where exactly did you study herpetology?” Olaf didn’t say anything, he just turned on the radio, an old upbeat pop song starting to play from the speakers.

“I love this song!” he said, turning up the volume. “You know, we should just listen to this song all the way to the theatre!”

Fortunately, that didn’t happen. The song ended, and a new one took its place, and so on and so forth until they pulled up outside the theatre. Monty led them over to the ticket seller, a white-haired old man whose dæmon was a red fox.

“Hello, Dr. Montgomery, Antonia!” Antonia lifted her tail in a sort of friendly wave.

“Hello, old friends! Can I get tickets for two adults, and three minors, please?”

“I’m giving you the verified film discount!” the ticket seller replied, before printing out five tickets. “Now, you lot hold onto those- you never know when they might come in handy.” Then he handed the five tickets to Monty, who shared them out among the group.

“Can we get popcorn?” Klaus asked, once they entered the theatre. His parents had always let them get popcorn when they went to the movies, though they were encouraged not to make too much noise, or drop it on the floor, because they weren’t the only ones who would be affected by that.

“Popcorn sounds like a wonderful idea!” Monty exclaimed.

“Why don’t I get the popcorn for all of us?” Olaf asked. “It can be my treat!”

“That’s very kind of you, Stephano! Thank you for that!” He frowned. “Should we wait for you before going in, or...”

“No, no, you go take a seat. You wouldn’t want to miss anything!” So, with a reluctant sigh, Monty led the Baudelaires into the cinema.

“Seventh row, right of centre. That’s the best place!” Monty said, guiding the children to their seats.

“That’s what Mother always said,” Violet replied.

“Who do you think taught it to me?” He smiled. “You know, Baudelaires, I am really happy to be seeing this movie with you- I’m sure your parents would be pleased.”

“Why? It’s only a movie,” Klaus pointed out.

“A movie is never just a movie, any more than a book is just a book.” He sighed. “Ah, there's so much to learn. Unfortunately, some of that learning is going to have to be delayed tonight, because of you-know-who. Promise me this, Baudelaires- if I leave during the movie, you will not act as if anything has gone wrong, but you'll keep your eyes on that fraud Stephano.”

Speaking of the devil, Olaf chose that moment to come back into the theatre, carrying two buckets of popcorn- one that was very large, and one that was tiny.

“I got the popcorn!” he said. “This one is for me,” he continued, lifting the large one slightly. “And this one is for the rest of you.” He handed the tiny one to Monty, who took it with a tight smile.

“Er, thank you, Stephano, your generosity is appreciated.” Just after Olaf took his seat, the music started playing, and the film began.

 _Zombies In The Snow_ was unlike any movie Klaus had ever seen. The dialogue was weird and stilted, the plot was only just discernible, and he was pretty sure that he’d seen both “Gerta” and “Rolf” somewhere before, though he couldn’t remember exactly where. To top it all off, Monty kept lifting up a spyglass, much like the one currently in Klaus’s pocket, at random points throughout the movie, to write things down on the back of his ticket. However, just as Rolf lay dying, and Monty had his spyglass raised and his pen poised, Olaf chose that moment to spill half his popcorn across the floor.

“Oh well,” he said, with a small shrug. “Looks like I’ll have to go get some more.” He got to his feet, and walked along the aisle, right in front of Monty. He didn’t stay there for long, just long enough that by the time he moved away, the scene had ended.

Just after he came back, Monty stood up too, stepping into the aisle so that he wasn’t blocking anyone’s view of the screen.

“Now you’re back, Stephano, I must take this opportunity to excuse myself. Would you mind staying here with the children?” Olaf agreed, and Monty disappeared out the door.

Klaus tried to stick to the plan, and carry on as if nothing was amiss, but he couldn’t help feeling anxious as the movie continued- especially when Olaf got up, as if he was going to leave too.

“Where are you going?” Klaus asked. “Monty said you were supposed to keep an eye on us.” Olaf said nothing, he just walked calmly out of the theatre.

Things somehow managed to get stranger after that. Either Klaus was imagining things, or the movie had rewound several scenes, practically back to the beginning. Then it skipped forwards, to Rolf’s death scene- the very scene Olaf had made sure Monty didn’t see.

As Klaus watched the scene, he recognised the man’s dæmon, a black raven who was slowly inching her way out of the shot, and was able to work out where exactly he’d seen the two actors before. It had been in a different sort of theatre, and they’d been on the other side of the screen, so to speak. It was the lady in the red dress, and Monty’s former assistant, Gustav.

Finally, the movie ended, and the Baudelaires realised that while Olaf had come back, Uncle Monty had not. Quickly, they left the theatre, running out past the lobby and out of the building.

“Monty? Antonia?” Violet called.

“Monty? Antonia?” Klaus called, too.

“Mon? Snakey?” Sunny added.

“My, this _is_ an unfortunate event!” Olaf said, and the Baudelaires turned to face him. “Three young children all along, with no guardian to protect them! Whatever are we going to do?”

“We’ll drive home, of course!” the Baudelaires turned again, their eyes lighting up when they saw their uncle.

“There you are, Monty!” Klaus exclaimed.

“Snakey!” Sunny squealed, pointing at Antonia. _They’re both okay, that’s a relief!_

“Hello, children!” Monty replied, smiling warmly at them. “Sorry to worry you, I had a couple of matters to discuss with the ticket seller, and I got a little tied up. Did you enjoy the movie?”

“It was very unusual,” Violet replied.

“Well, it will definitely require some further explanation,” Monty said. “Now, you three wait in the car- I have some unfinished business to attend to with Stephano.”

“Will you be okay?” Klaus asked.

“Of course,” Monty replied. “I am your guardian. It is my duty- and my delight, might I add- to keep all of you safe. Now, run along.”

Reluctantly, the Baudelaires climbed into their uncle’s van. Lizzie shifted into a cat, so that Klaus could better hold her and draw comfort from her. Oliver stayed a snake, curling around Sunny while she petted him, managing to remember to stroke him the way Monty had taught them all, from the head to the tail. And Prospero just sat on Violet’s shoulder, watching the scene outside the window.

“What do you think they’re saying out there?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Klaus replied. “But I hope he’s telling Olaf that his plan has been foiled, and he’s done for.” Finally, Olaf walked away, and Monty got into the van.

“There now, Baudelaires! That horrible man will never be able to hurt you again!”

“You mean-” Violet began.

“That’s right! I’ve confronted him, and I’ve thrown him out of our lives forever!”

“And we’re just gonna leave him there, in the parking lot?”

“He’ll be under the careful eye of a very capable ticket seller! And even if he does manage to slip away, it’s no concern of ours. There’s been a change of plans, Baudelaires- we won’t be leaving for Peru in a few days, as we’d intended. We’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow morning, on a ship with a name I think at least one of you will appreciate- the S.S Prospero.”

“The S.S Prospero?” Prospero squeaked, enthusiastically.

“Indeed,” Monty replied. “Now, once we reach Peru, there will also hopefully be a chance to answer any questions you three may have- as I’m sure, after that movie, that you’ll have several. Not to worry, Baudelaires- soon you’ll have all the answers you’ll need!”

When they got home, the Baudelaires packed their suitcases with as many of the nice clothes, books and toys Monty had given them as they could. Sunny had to have her case packed for her, after she dumped a couple of sticks into her case, somehow managed to convince the Incredibly Deadly Viper to sit in it, and announced that she was done.

Once that was finished, Monty made them hot chocolate, each mug loaded up with cream and marshmallows. Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver sat on the floor, with Antonia’s long, dark green body curled around them, while Violet, Klaus and Sunny listened to Monty explain how their journey was going to pan out. Even Sunny, who had the attention span of a goldfish at the best of times, was listening attentively.

“...Then we travel inward to Ollantaytambo, in search of some geckos who have an extra leg. First one to find one gets to name it,” Monty said, before closing the map.

“It sounds wonderful!” Klaus replied.

“It does, doesn’t it?” He sighed. “Listen, children- I know that the loss of your parents was a great tragedy, but you can still have the life they wanted for you. But now, it is time for bed. We have a squidillion things to do tomorrow, and a boat to catch.” He paused, noticing that Sunny’s mug was empty. “Oh, Sunny, it seems that you finished all of your marshmallows.”

“Mallnice!” Sunny said. _They were very delicious, thank you!_

“What my sister means-” Violet began, but Monty cut her off.

“I know what your sister means, Violet. It seems we finally found a soft food that you like after all.” Sunny giggled, and so did her siblings. Maybe, Klaus thought, things were gonna get better after all. Maybe their troubles really were over.

Later, Monty put them to bed. They had agreed that after the Peru trip, they would properly move into three separate rooms, rather than sleeping in one and using the other two as places to get dressed in the morning and work on projects during the day.

“Good night, my bambini,” Monty said, and Antonia bid them good night with a flick of her tail.

“Good night, Uncle Monty. Good night, Antonia,” Violet said, and her siblings echoed her.

“Sweet dreams!” Monty told them. “Tomorrow, we go to Peru!” And with that, he closed the door. It was the last time the children would see him alive- and the last time they would see Antonia at all.


	7. Violet

Chapter Seven- Violet

There is no word to describe the feeling of waking up and knowing instantly that something is horribly wrong. If such a word existed, Violet and her siblings would’ve used it that morning, when they found that the dawn had awoken them, and their Uncle Monty had not. 

They crept slowly down the stairs, each clinging to the hope that their uncle was just busy making breakfast, or carrying out some last minute preparations in the Reptile Room, it didn’t matter what. Just something, _anything_ to justify the fact he hadn’t been there when they woke up. 

As soon as they entered the Reptile Room through the half-open door, though, they knew that wasn’t the case. For one thing, Antonia did not come slithering up to meet them, as she usually would’ve done. In fact, as Violet looked around the room, she couldn’t see any sign of the dark green snake-dæmon anywhere. 

“Antonia?” she called, though even as she said it, she knew it was ultimately no good. 

Because at that moment, she finally saw her uncle, slumped in his desk chair. She saw how grey and pale his skin had become, the blankness of his staring eyes, the two puncture marks just beneath those eyes. She saw all of it, but she couldn’t bring herself to take any of it in, not really. Prospero climbed down from her shoulder, not wanting to look at him. 

“Antonia?” he called, even though he knew, as sure as Violet did, that she was gone. “Antonia!” 

“Stop it!” she shouted, bending down to scoop up the little hedgehog-dæmon, holding him close. “Stop it, Prospero, you’re… she’s… they’re…” She couldn’t even say it. She didn’t have the words to say it, even if there was no use in denying it. All that was left of Uncle Monty was the dreadful grey corpse in front of them, and all that was left of Antonia was a cloud of golden dust.

“Oh dear, what on Earth has happened?” asked a horrible voice behind the Baudelaires. Reluctantly, Violet turned to face Count Olaf. From a distance, it looked like he had a streak of blood on his lab coat, but it was simply the long tail of his dæmon.

“What did you do?” Klaus demanded. He started to walk forward, but Violet reached her free hand out to stop him. She really, really didn’t want him getting hurt again, and there was no way of knowing what Olaf would do next. 

“Me? I didn’t do anything. Surely you children can see that this was the fault of one of Dr. Montgomery’s precious snakes? Just look at the puncture marks on his cold, unmoving face, the deadly grey pallor of his skin, his-” 

“Stop it! Stop talking like that!” Violet interrupted. This was already way too much to deal with- Olaf carrying on like this was only making it worse.

“You’re right, we don’t have time to chat- especially when we have a boat to catch- the S.S Prospero, right?” Violet blinked, realising what he was planning. 

“We won’t go to the end of the driveway with you, never mind international waters!” 

“I see. Well, in that case, I suppose I’ll just have to carry my own luggage, won’t I?” He lifted two black suitcases, and calmly walked towards the doorway, knocking one case against the frame. A cry of pain came from the case- two of them. 

“Sunny!” Klaus called. “Oliver!” The two older Baudelaires ran after Olaf. They followed him outside to Monty’s car, where he set down the two suitcases. They looked very small- far too small for an infant girl and her dæmon. 

“Let them out of there right now!” Violet shouted, before she could think better of it. She was about to reach out for one of the cases, when she saw something silver and gleaming. 

“I am so tired of having to explain everything to you children. You’re supposed to be so intelligent, and yet you consistently manage to forget about this,” he said, brandishing the knife. “Don’t worry about your bratty sister- I’ll leave some breathing holes for her.” And before either Violet or Klaus could stop him, he started jabbing the knife into one of the suitcases in random spots. 

“Stop it!” Violet cried. 

“I’m only kidding! That’s not the suitcase she’s in.” He paused, frowning at the case. “At least, I don’t _think_ it is.” 

“Please don’t hurt them, not again,” Klaus said, and Violet knew he was thinking of what had happened the last time Olaf had stuffed Sunny into a tiny place. 

“Then get in the damn jeep, and don’t give me any more problems.” They had no choice but to obey him, and climbed into the back of Monty’s car. 

Violet’s thoughts churned as Olaf continued down the driveway. Monty was dead, and though she knew full well that there was nothing anyone could do now to change that, Violet couldn’t help thinking about whether or not she could’ve done anything differently last night, that might have stopped this tragic event from happening. 

“You know, you only have yourselves to blame,” Olaf commented. “If you hadn’t stranded me at the movies, I wouldn’t have had to kill Monty, and we could all be on our way to Peru together- where I would’ve had to kill Monty.”

He was so busy gloating and blaming them for what he’d done that he didn’t notice the car coming towards them until it was too late. Now, it is extremely rare for a car accident to be a fortunate event. For the Baudelaires, though, this was one of those times.

“What were you thinking, barrelling down the driveway like a maniac?” Olaf demanded. 

Violet and Klaus climbed quietly out of the car, and surveyed the situation. The other car was probably in a worse state than Monty’s jeep- the whole front section was crushed beyond repair. There was also something familiar about it, although until the driver climbed out, and Violet heard his hacking cough and saw his black bowler hat, that she fully realised why. 

“It’s Mr. Poe,” she said, turning to Klaus- only to find he was making his way round to the back of Monty’s jeep, presumably to fetch Sunny. 

“Violet Baudelaire, what are you doing out here?” He frowned at her. Eugenie was frowning too, her tiny eyes looking from Violet to the empty space beside her. 

“Where are the other two?” she asked, just as Klaus came back, holding tightly to Sunny. “There they are,” she said. 

“Mr. Poe, I’m so glad you ran into us!” Violet said, hoping that now he would be able to recognise Olaf and get them out of this mess. 

“I wouldn’t say that- it was clearly the fault of the other driver. Speaking of which- you’re not Dr. Montgomery.” This last remark he directed to Olaf, who gave him a polite smile. 

“Hello, my name is Stephano. I am Dr. Montgomery Montgomery’s new assistant,” he replied, in the same false voice he had used with Uncle Monty. “I mean, I was,” he amended. “I mean... I don't know how to say it.”

“Uncle Monty’s dead,” Violet said. 

“There you go- that’s how to say it.” Poe frowned, concerned. 

“Wait, he’s dead? That’s awful- how did it happen?” 

“He was bitten by a snake,” Olaf replied, a near perfect mask of grief and horror on his face. “I was on my way to get the coroner- I had to bring the children, they were too hysterical to be left alone.” 

“He wasn’t taking us to a coroner! He was taking us to Peru!” Violet cried. 

“See what I mean? Completely hysterical!” Olaf said, gesturing to her and managing to ignore the death glares all three children were sending his way. 

“No, the children must be confused. Dr. Montgomery was taking them to Peru. Last night he called me to insist on me rearranging my morning itinerary to bring them these passports.”

“And to think we did all that for nothing!” Eugenie added. Poe frowned down at her, but she just shrugged. “What? It’s true!”

“Maybe, but you don’t have to _say_ it, that’s not polite!”

“Can’t you see what’s going on, either of you? That’s Count Olaf! He’s in disguise, and he’s trying to take us away!” Violet said, trying one more time to appeal to the banker. 

“Who am I? What am I doing?” Olaf asked, smiling at Mr. Poe. “Don’t you miss the vivid imagination of childhood?” 

“Children, you must be very distraught about losing your uncle,” Mr. Poe said, with what he probably thought was a sympathetic smile. He turned to Olaf, to elaborate. “Count Olaf is a terrible man who tried to steal their fortune.”

“Really?” Olaf asked, and Poe nodded. “And do I look anything like this Count Olaf?” Here, Poe shook his head. 

“No, you don’t- Count Olaf has one long eyebrow and he has a very short beard. You have a very long beard, and I hope you don't mind me saying so, no eyebrows at all.” 

_No,_ Violet thought. _This can’t be happening._ Mr. Poe couldn’t seriously think that, just because “Stephano” didn’t have a stupid eyebrow, that meant he couldn’t possibly be Count Olaf? She looked up at her former guardian’s shoulder, just as Prospero looked down at his feet. They may be looking in different directions, but Violet knew they were seeing the same thing- indisputable proof. 

“What about his tattoo?” Prospero asked. “Count Olaf has a tattoo of an eye on his left ankle.” Mr. Poe sighed, but turned to Olaf. 

“I hate to trouble you, sir, but would you kindly show us your ankle, just to put the children’s mind at ease?” 

There was nothing nice about the smile on Olaf’s face as he proceeded to do as Poe asked, propping his foot up on the bumper of Monty’s jeep and rolling down his sock, so that everyone could see what lay beneath it- a patch of pale white skin, as blank and empty as Uncle Monty’s poor, dead face. 

“My apologies, Mr. Stephano,” Poe said. 

“Mr. Poe, there’s something else,” Klaus said. “His dæmon-” 

“- Is a red lizard, yes, Klaus, I can see that. I don’t see what that has to do with anything, though.” 

“She’s not a _lizard...”_ he began, but it was no good. 

“Well, she certainly looks like one. And since neither of us are herpetologists, I don’t think we should be going around deciding what counts as a lizard and what doesn’t.” 

“If you two are finished,” Olaf interrupted. “We really must be going. I’ll just check that the vehicle is operational-” 

“No, none of us are going anywhere until we’ve called the police.” 

“Oh come on, man, it’s just a fender bender,” Olaf protested. 

“Not about _that,_ ” Eugenie replied. “About Dr. Montgomery.” 

“Oh, right,” replied the scarlet salamander. “Well, that is a sensible idea.” 

Once they returned to the house, the Baudelaires went upstairs to get changed, while Mr. Poe phoned the police. Violet looked around the room she’d planned to move into properly after the Peru trip. She looked at the wardrobe, filled with a variety of skirts, dresses and trousers, because Monty _hadn’t wanted to make assumptions_ about the kind of things she liked to wear. She looked at the table that had already gathered a small collection of tools, along with a device she’d started working on which was supposed to make it easier to handle dangerous reptiles that hadn’t been discovered yet, and at all the other things in this room that had made it, for a short while at least, _hers_. 

Finally, she left it, and joined her siblings on the landing. She took Sunny from Klaus, which allowed Lizzie to perch on his arm. 

“How do you think he got rid of his tattoo?” she asked. 

“Oodab,” Sunny replied, by which she meant, _I don’t know- but I’ve heard it’s a painful process._

The three children made their way down the stairs, where Mr. Poe greeted them in the lobby. 

“I’ve called the police, and they should be on their way soon. They have to deal with an escaped cow from a dairy farm first, though, so who knows how long they’ll be.” Just as he said that, the doorbell rang. “They must’ve made quick work of that cow. 

Unfortunately, though, that was not the case. The police had not made quick work of that cow- but Olaf had made quick work of sending for back-up. The person who stood in the doorway appeared to be a rather tall nurse, wearing a long blue dress and a white apron. 

There was something oddly familiar about her- though it wasn’t until Violet recognised the dæmon perched on her- or more accurately their- shoulder, a small blue and yellow bird she hadn’t seen since being freed from Count Olaf’s care, that she realised who it was. It was one of Olaf’s accomplices, the one whose gender she hadn’t been sure about. 

“Can I help you?” Mr. Poe asked, and Violet shot quick glances at her siblings, confirming that they’d recognised the “nurse” too. 

“I’m Nurse Lucafont!” they said, in a fake, high-pitched voice that was only slightly more obvious than Olaf’s- though it was a close call. “I heard there’s been a terrible accident involving a snake!” 

“Yes- you’d better come this way, nurse, through to the Reptile Room.” 

“Excuse me,” Klaus asked, “but why are you wearing that mask over your face?” 

“I heard there were reptiles- they, they might be contagious.” As if to emphasise their point, the nurse’s nuthatch-dæmon covered their beak with a blue wing. 

“Reptiles aren’t contagious,” Klaus replied. 

“Well, at any rate, maybe the children should wait outside- being in a room alone with a dead body could be very traumatic.” Olaf commented. 

“We’ve already been in a room with a dead body, thanks to you,” Violet reminded him.

“Oh, yes, thank you, Stephano. I must say, you show genuine compassion for these children.” 

“Someone should wait with them,” said Olaf’s dæmon. “We can do it, it’s no trouble.” 

“Maybe we can wait with them too?” suggested Lucafont.

“No, no, that won’t work! If you’re out here, there won’t be anyone who can do the examination.”

“Maybe,” Violet began, “Klaus, Sunny and I could wait with Mr. Poe, while Stephano and Nurse Lucafont go to examine the body?”

“That does seem like the best plan,” Poe agreed. 

“Fine,” Olaf conceded. “Right this way, nurse- but remember, children, I will be just on the other side of this door.” With that, the two villainous adults disappeared behind the reptile room door.

“Oh, I’m sorry, children,” Mr. Poe said, once they were gone. “Dr. Montgomery did seem like an appropriate guardian for you.” 

“He was more than that- he was much, much more than appropriate,” Klaus replied. Violet looked at the door, and held Sunny closer. 

“Please don’t let him be our new guardian,” she said. 

“Oh, don’t be silly, children. While it is shocking that Dr. Montgomery has died, I’m not just going to hand you over to his assistant.”

“Well,” Eugenie added. “Not without some very thorough paperwork first, anyway.” Before any of them could say anything more, though, there was a scream from the reptile room. They went through to the room where, despite Violet’s hopes, Olaf hadn’t been attacked by one of Monty’s snakes. 

“You can go back through- Nurse Lucafont was just startled by a lizard.”

“It’s… It’s a reptile room,” Klaus said. 

“I didn’t think that meant literally!” Lucafont replied. The Baudelaires turned to go, before Stephano spoke again.

“Actually, you came here just in time. The nurse has just finished the autopsy.” 

“And did you determine the cause of death?” Violet asked.

“Snakebite,” Lucafont said, a little too quickly.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“There’s two bite marks on his cheek, only a snake could’ve done that. Besides, I tested his blood, and in his veins I found the venom of one of the world’s most dangerous snakes.”

“Good heavens!” Mr. Poe exclaimed. “Which one?” 

“The Incredibly Deadly Viper!” Lucafont replied.

“That’s impossible! For one thing, there’s no way that Uncle Monty would just let a deadly snake bite him- he’s one of the world’s leading herpetologists! And even if that were the case, the Incredibly Deadly Viper can’t be responsible- it’s one of the least dangerous and most friendly creatures in the entire animal kingdom! 

“Oh come now, Violet,” Poe replied. “It’s called the Incredibly Deadly Viper!” 

“But it’s a misnomer! Uncle Monty called him that so he could play a joke on the Herpetological Society!”

“He sounds highly unstable- not good guardian material,” commented Olaf’s dæmon. Violet glared up at her, hating that she could even say something like that. 

“He was a wonderful, caring person!” she protested. 

“And the Incredibly Deadly Viper wouldn’t hurt anyone, and we can prove it!” added Prospero.

“How can you prove it when you don’t even know where it is?” Olaf asked, glancing towards a large cage in the corner. The Baudelaires followed his gaze. The cage which had once held the Incredibly Deadly Viper was now open, and empty. “Hmm, fleeing the scene of a crime? Highly suspicious!” 

“I see what must’ve happened now,” Poe said. “Dr. Montgomery must have forgotten to lock the cage properly, allowing the viper to slip out and kill him.” 

“I suppose we'll never know what Dr. Montgomery did to trigger the bloodlust in its reptile brain,” Olaf remarked. “I myself know nothing about snakes- I only got here just recently and scarcely have had time to learn. But I hear the slimy creatures can hold a grudge.”

“That's the trouble with exotic pets- maybe nature isn't meant to be tamed,” Lucafont observed. Only, they seemed to have forgotten who they were pretending to be, seeing as they’d lost their fake voice. 

“What did you say your name was again?” Violet asked, sensing this moment of weakness and wanting to make the most of it. 

“I’m Nurse Lucafont!” they replied. 

“I’m sorry- I can’t understand you with that mask,” Klaus said, clearly having the same idea as Violet had. Lucafont sighed, and yanked down their mask. 

“I _said_ I’m Nurse Lucafont!” Violet glanced at her brother, allowing herself to feel just a tiny bit of hope. 

“Mr. Poe, that’s not a nurse at all- that’s one of Count Olaf’s accomplices!” Mr. Poe just frowned, and Violet felt her tiny flicker of hope die. 

“You mean the one with hooks for hands, who filled in for my secretary once and broke the typewriter?” Klaus shook his head. “Well, I’ve never met any of the others- and besides, I’m sure that Count Olaf is hundreds of miles away, along with any accomplices he has.” Just then, the screeching iguana clock announced the hour. 

“Oh, will you look at the time?” Olaf asked. “Well, the SS Prospero departs at five o'clock. You better go upstairs, children, and pack for your Peruvian adventure.” 

“Mr. Poe, we can’t go with Stephano,” Violet said. If he wasn’t going to listen to them when they told him who Stephano was, if he couldn’t understand why they were in danger… she would have to try a different tack, try to think of an argument he _would_ listen to. “We don’t have that proper paperwork Eugenie mentioned.” 

“That is a good point,” Poe agreed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stephano- you do seem like a good person, but I’m afraid that the children’s foreign adventures will have to wait.” He turned to the Baudelaires. “Now, why don’t you go and get your coats and suitcases, and we’ll get going?” 

“Not so fast!” Olaf cut in, before the children could do just that. “Nobody is leaving this house when there’s a snake on the loose!” 

“But that’s absurd! I’m already late for the bank, and I’m up for a very important promotion!”

“Well, the bank will just have to wait. Until we can catch the snake, this entire place is under lockdown!” 

“You don’t mean...” Poe began.

“Yes! We’re under a quarantine!” He paused, then tapped something in his sleeve. “A quarantine!” he repeated, a little louder this time. 

“And how long are we going to be under quarantine for?” asked Eugenie, folding her arms and glaring up at Olaf. She looked like she wanted to speak to the manager, except there was no manager around here. 

“It depends on how long the police take- oh, there they are,” Olaf replied, answering the door to his other four accomplices. 

“These are Count Olaf’s accomplices! Look, they’re all wearing costumes!” Klaus said. It was true- the others were all disguised as various officers, detectives and medical people. 

“No no, children these are adults. Adults only wear costumes if it’s a charity ball, or they happen to be employed as actors.” 

“But they are employed as actors!” Klaus protested. The troupe were moving around the parlour in a flurry of activity, making it hard to keep track of what they were actually doing. “Don’t you recognise him?” Klaus tried again. “That’s the hook-handed man, and those two women were in Count Olaf’s play!” 

“Children, it’s very rude to question police authority,” Poe told them. “Besides, the women in that play were wearing ghastly theatrical make-up, and that man is opening a can of peaches with hands instead of hooks.” 

“So,” Eugenie concluded, “They can’t be the people you’re thinking of!” 

“That’s Uncle Monty’s food!” Klaus protested, pointing at the hook-handed man. “Stop eating his food!” The man shrugged, dropping one of the peaches down on the ground so that his dæmon could snap it up and eat it. 

“I was only gonna have a few peaches,” he muttered. 

“The children lost their uncle today, I’m sure you can understand,” Mr. Poe said, before turning to the Baudelaires. “Violet, Klaus, Sunny, why don’t you wait upstairs? The adults will take care of it from here.” Klaus opened his mouth to protest, but Violet grabbed his arm. 

“Come on, Klaus. The adults won’t take care of anything, but we will."

* * *

“So,” Violet began, once they had gathered upstairs in Klaus’s room. “We know that the Incredibly Deadly Viper didn’t kill Uncle Monty, and we know that Count Olaf did. We also know that if we’re going to prove either of those facts to Mr. Poe, we’re going to need to be able to give him something besides our words. We need proper evidence.” 

“How are we going to do that? I mean, even if Nurse Lucafont’s a fake, we can’t deny that Monty had those two bite marks, or that, to the untrained eye, they would look a lot like a snake bite.” Violet frowned, and quickly tied up her hair. 

“What we need to do is find the Incredibly Deadly Viper- that way we can, at the very least, prove that it wasn’t responsible.” 

“Inky!” Sunny shouted. Oliver shifted into what seemed to be his new favourite form, a smaller version of the large, friendly snake.

“Yes, we’ll find your friend, don’t worry,” Violet replied. “We just need to be able to prove Inky’s innocence, and Olaf’s guilt, and we’ll have everything we need to send Olaf to jail and stop anyone else getting hurt.” She frowned, looking at Klaus’s suitcase, which was sitting on a chair near the door. “I think I have an idea for how we can prove Olaf’s guilt. Klaus, do you think you could get back into the reptile room unnoticed?” Klaus nodded. “Then let’s go.” 

* * *

Quietly, Violet slipped out of the room and down the stairs, bringing Prospero, Sunny and Oliver with her. She slipped out of the house, relieved to see that the door to the reptile room had been closed, and walked quickly down the driveway, ignoring the large white van with “Corner” written on it. 

Monty’s jeep was where they’d left it, and fortunately the back door was still open, Olaf’s suitcases still in place. Unfortunately, though, they were both locked. Determined not to let that stop her, though, Violet carefully set Sunny down on the grass and once again tied up her hair. She could do this, she just needed to think.

“If we were inside,” Prospero said, “we’d have more to work with, and you’d probably be able to make some kind of lock pick.”

They didn’t have time to go back inside and look, though- they had to act quickly. An idea occurred to her, and she made her way round to the front of the jeep. Luckily, Monty’s keys were still in the ignition. Violet pulled them out, and handed them to Sunny.

“Do you think you could help me out with this?” she asked her sister, handing her the keys. Sunny nodded, and started biting at one of the keys. Before long, she presented Violet with the result, and Violet stuck it into the lock of the first suitcase, the one with holes punched into the top. 

Inside, among a few clothes and a half-full bottle of wine, Violet found a few strange items. She found a vial with a tiny amount of clear fluid in it, a pair of empty syringes and a device with two empty barrels. She studied them carefully, trying to work out how exactly they all fit together. If you put the syringes into the barrels, and the vial into the… Wait- where was Sunny? She’d been awfully quiet since Violet had started this investigation. 

“Sunny?” she called. “Oliver? Sunny?” 

“I’d say partly cloudy,” said a voice behind her, just as her arm was yanked back. Prospero darted into the jeep, as far as he could go without causing pain to the both of them. 

“Let me go!” she hissed, trying to pull free. 

“I thought you were supposed to be a nice girl. Nice girls aren't supposed to dig through people's personal, private property. Especially when it's- Wait, wasn’t it locked?” 

“It was,” Violet snapped. 

“Oh, how clever,” Olaf replied, and Violet didn’t have to turn her head to know he was smirking. “But I bet you're not clever enough for this- I have four tickets with me to Peru right now. I was going to take you and your siblings, because that's just the kind of guardian I am. But I'll settle for one of you.”

Violet closed her eyes, torn between not wanting to find herself alone with Olaf- not after she’d fought to avoid that very thing- and wanting to keep him away from her siblings. But before she could think about it too much, she heard a scream from inside the house. 

“What’s that?” Olaf’s dæmon asked.

“It’s probably just the screeching iguana clock,” Olaf replied. Still, his grip on Violet’s arm loosened, and Violet, seizing her opportunity, grabbed the suitcase and ran away, Prospero leaping out of the jeep and running after her, towards the house.


	8. Klaus

Meanwhile, back at the ranch- and about six minutes earlier- Klaus Baudelaire was facing a slightly different, but by no means less troubling, set of problems. Namely, the fact that he was dangling out of a two-storey window, supported only by a curtain rod.

“Don’t look down,” Lizzie said, helpfully.

Klaus sighed, but managed not to look down. Instead, he looked to the side, at Monty’s labyrinth. There was something there, a statue that hadn’t been there the last time he’d looked. It depicted a golden woman in a grey dress, holding something long and brass and strangely familiar. Something was fluttering around her, but it was impossible to see what it was from here.

Before he could dwell on it for too long, though, the curtain rod came loose, and he fell, landing on the ground with a hard thud. His back ached, and he could tell from Lizzie’s pained squawk that she felt it too. There was no time to worry about that, though, he had to get moving.

He crawled over to the window and peered through, to see if the adults were sufficiently distracted. The troupe were milling about in the Reptile Room, though it was hard to tell what exactly most of them were doing, since he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He could see that the Hook-Handed Man was still working his way through the can of peaches he’d stolen- unless he’d moved on to a different can, which somehow seemed even worse- and would sometimes feed them to his dæmon, who was draped across his shoulders in a way that reminded him way too much of Monty and Antonia.

Seeing that the adults were all distracted, and that Olaf was nowhere to be seen, Klaus slipped into the room through one of the reptile flaps. Fortunately, he was right next to Uncle Monty’s desk, and he was able to quickly hide himself in the space behind it. Now he could hear what the adults were saying- he could hear Nurse Lucafont saying something about autopsies and medical slang. But he couldn’t listen, not when there was so much else to do.

The room felt cold, and unsettled, and Klaus knew, as he quietly looked through Uncle Monty’s desk drawers, that even though his guardian’s body had been removed from this room, it would never feel safe or welcoming again. What had happened today had tainted this room forever, and it would never be the same again.

Lizzie shifted, from a mouse to a ladybird, and flew up to the desk to check it. Klaus, meanwhile, slid open the nearest desk drawer as quietly as he could. Inside, he found a thick brown journal, which he really, really hoped would have the information he needed.

He flipped it open, and was relieved when it fell to a page that had been marked with Uncle Monty’s movie ticket from last night. A message had been scribbled on the back- _Danger. Change of plans. Take children to Peru tomorrow. Same boat, same time._ Klaus put the ticket on the floor for a second, and looked at the page it had been placed on.

The page outlined some of Uncle Monty’s findings on Inky, as did the next few pages after it, and Klaus scanned them quickly.

 _Most unusual creature… Don’t know where it came from… Wouldn’t hurt a fly…_ There it was, the information he needed to know. He tucked the ticket back into the relevant page, and closed the book, hiding it inside his jacket.

“Now what?” whispered Lizzie, flying over to rest on Klaus’s knee. Klaus shook his head, not sure how else to answer her. The best option was to crawl back out the way he’d come- and then what would he do? He had the evidence he needed now, but what was he meant to do with it? Why hadn’t they taken just a minute longer to plan this out?

Klaus looked over his shoulder, out the glass wall. He could see a white-coated figure making his way down the path, towards where Monty’s jeep had crashed. Where Violet was supposed to be investigating Olaf’s crimes. The red streak from his dæmon’s tail made it look like he already had blood on his clothes as well as his hands.

 _Shit,_ he thought. Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it quickly. Maybe if he could sneak back through the lizard flap, he could go after Olaf, stop him somehow… But how would he do it? He had no weapons, no upper body strength, nothing that could help him out. Even if he could improvise something, could he really go through with it and attack Olaf, even after everything he’d done? Would it just make everything worse?

Before he could move, though, there was a scream from the lobby. Klaus recognised it straight away- and also knew that it was about as genuine as “Stephano’s” accent. Still, he had to give credit where it was due- it was certainly a convincing scream.

“What was that?” asked Mr. Poe.

“Maybe it’s the screeching iguana clock,” speculated Nurse Lucafont.

It was not the screeching iguana clock- Klaus knew that even before the adults rushed out into the lobby to investigate. Taking his opportunity, he quickly and quietly slipped out from behind the desk, and crept across the floor. Lizzie shifted back into a mouse, and hid in his pocket, so they could both move as stealthily as possible.

Spying the large cage containing the Dissonant Tortoises, Klaus hid behind it, and waited for his moment- and for Mr. Poe to calm down.

“Run away! Kill the snake! Leave it alone! Give it some food! Don't let it bite her! It bit her! It's bitten her! It bited her! Calm down! Get moving! Call an ambulance! Call a scientist! Call my wife! This is ghastly! This is phantasmagorical!” He paused, possibly so he could address the troupe. “You are police officers, do something!”

“It looks like the baby’s playing with it!” exclaimed one of the white-faced women.

“With the Incredibly Deadly Viper?” Eugenie asked, incredulously. Klaus pulled the journal out from inside his jacket. His moment had come- or at least, as good a moment as he could hope for, under the circumstances. Walking out of the Reptile Room and into the lobby, he began to read.

“From the expedition journal of Dr. Montgomery Montgomery, April 24th. _The incredibly deadly viper wouldn't hurt a fly. I know this because I tried to feed it flies this morning. It is friendly and kind, playful and smart, and if you can get past your first impression, it can make a wonderful addition to the family.”_ He snapped the journal shut. “And therefore, it cannot have killed Uncle Monty.”

“Well, that still doesn’t change anything!” Olaf protested. “There’s plenty of other snakes that could’ve killed him, not just that one. The Mamba Du Mal bites as it strangles, the Irascible Python is homicidally grumpy, and the Virginian Wolfsnake can bludgeon you to death with a typewriter.”

“How do you know all that?” Klaus asked. He could sense that Olaf had made a mistake here, that he’d slipped up somehow. He racked his brains, trying to remember what exactly it was, while Lizzie crawled out of his pocket and shifted into her familiar owl form, settling on his shoulder.

“Because I read up about all sorts of different snakes in the reptile room.”

“Er, boss,” Lucafont hissed. Clearly, Klaus wasn’t the only one who’d worked out that Olaf had made a mistake.

“Don’t interrupt me while I am speaking, Nurse,” Olaf replied. “Anyway, as I was saying, I consider myself to be quite an expert on the snakes.”

“Ah ha!” Sunny exclaimed, as the final piece fell into place, and both the younger Baudelaires realised what had happened.

“What was that, Sunny?” asked Eugenie.

“She said ah ha!” Oliver replied. “Because we’ve worked something out!”

“Stephano said he knew nothing about snakes- in front of the three of us, Mr. Poe and Nurse Lucafont,” Klaus elaborated. “You both heard him, didn’t you?” he asked the two adults.

“Yes, he did say that!” Poe replied. Lucafont mumbled their agreement.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Stephano!” Eugenie added, folding her little arms and frowning up at Olaf.

“Well, you see, the reason I said I didn’t know anything about the snakes was that I was being modest.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “You weren’t being modest, you haven’t been modest a day in your life! You were lying!”

“You can’t speak to an adult that way, Klaus,” Poe reprimanded.

“He’s even lying right now!” Klaus said, ignoring Poe’s remark. “He’s a liar, and a murderer, and he killed Uncle Monty!”

“You can’t prove that, though- you haven’t got any real evidence,” Olaf countered.

“Actually,” came a voice from the main doorway. “We do have evidence.” Violet joined the group that had gathered in the lobby, clutching one of Olaf’s suitcases in her arms.

“What is all this?” Poe asked, once they’d all gone back through to the reptile room, and Violet had set down the suitcase on the table and opened it to show everyone its contents.

“Evidence, which we found in Stephano’s suitcase,” Prospero replied.

“She picked the lock!” Olaf exclaimed.

“Violet, is that true?” Violet nodded. “Nice girls shouldn’t know how to do things like that!”

“That’s what I told her,” Olaf said.

“My sister is a nice girl,” Klaus said, defensively. “And she knows how to do all sorts of things.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” Poe replied. “Violet, please continue.”

“Alright. When Uncle Monty died, we were immediately suspicious.”

“We weren’t _suspicious,_ we knew what must’ve happened- he’d been murdered by Stephano,” Prospero countered.

“But Dr. Montgomery had two bite marks, clearly from a snake,” Poe said.

“I know- and that stumped me too, at first. Which is why I decided to search Stephano’s suitcase. I knew he wouldn’t want to leave any evidence behind, and I was right.”

She took a few items out of the suitcase, and then lowered the suitcase onto the ground. Klaus saw that she’d taken out two syringes, a double barrelled device of some kind and a small, square-shaped bottle.

“That’s nothing, it’s just my random junk collection,” Olaf retorted. “Which, by the way, was illegally obtained private property, and therefore not admissible in court.”

“Stephano does have a point,” Violet conceded. “It really doesn’t look like much in this state. However, when I noticed this, I realised there was more to it than that.” She held up the bottle. “Now, Uncle Monty told us that he kept venom samples of every deadly snake known to humanity. Mr. Poe, I believe that if you open up that cupboard there, you’ll see that there’s a sample missing.”

“You’re right- there’s a label here that says Mamba Du Mal, but there’s no bottle behind it,” Mr. Poe replied, once he’d opened the cupboard and examined its contents.

Klaus opened up the journal again, flicking through the pages until he found the right one. It was lucky Monty’s journals were so thick- they could contain a lot of discoveries in one volume, including Inky and the Mamba Du Mal.

“ _The mamba du mal is one of the deadliest snakes in the hemisphere, known for its deadly venom, and its tendency to strangle its victims as it bites them. Proceed with extreme caution_ ,” he read aloud.

“So, it’s obvious, then!” Olaf exclaimed. “The mamba du mal got out of its cage, stole a vial of its own venom, and murdered Dr. Montgomery in cold blood.”

“Right, right,” Poe replied. “Wait, that’s ridiculous.”

“But what about the bite marks?” asked Eugenie.

“They aren’t bite marks at all,” Prospero replied.

“When I first saw these pieces, I wasn’t initially sure how they fit together. So then I focussed on each piece as though they were individual parts of a machine, and that was when it started to make sense,” Violet explained. She slid the syringes into the double barrelled device, then attached the glass bottle to the top of the device. “Everyone, I would like to present the murder weapon.”

“That’s incredible!” exclaimed the white-faced women, in sync.

“Stephano used this double-barrel syringe to inject the venom into Uncle Monty, to simulate the double puncture marks of a snake- and then he disassembled it to hide the evidence.”

“But I loved Dr. Montgomery!” Olaf protested. “What motivation could I possibly have to murder him?”

“He’s after the Baudelaire fortune!” Klaus countered.

“Don’t be silly, Klaus- Stephano doesn’t even know about the Baudelaire fortune. Why would he know a thing like that?”

“Exactly- I thought they were penniless orphans. They certainly _dress_ like penniless orphans.”

That stung, Klaus thought, as he looked at his sisters. All three of them were wearing some of the new clothes Uncle Monty had bought for them- clothes he had bought especially for them, because he’d known they wouldn’t have anything left of their own. They were not the clothes of three penniless orphans, not really- in fact, they weren’t that different from the clothes they’d owned before the fire.

“If you think that’s the case,” he retorted, “then maybe it’s because all our fancy expensive clothes were destroyed in a fire, and this is what we’re left with. Then again, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Because you’re not Stephano, you’re Count Olaf!”

Klaus looked to Mr. Poe- maybe now, with unavoidable proof that this man had blood on his hands, the banker might listen to what he was saying.

“The kid detective thing is cute, but we have already dismissed that theory!” Olaf sneered. Mr. Poe, however, was not sneering.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’d like to take another look at your left ankle, sir- if that’s all the same to you.” He held his white handkerchief aloft, waiting for Olaf to expose his ankle.

“You keep that thing far away from me- you’ve been coughing germs into it all day!”

“If you are who the children say you are, I think you’re about to have far bigger problems on your hands than a few germs. Your left ankle, please!”

“Fine then, if you insist,” Olaf replied, resting his foot on a nearby box and rolling up the leg of his trousers.

The same patch of plain skin they’d seen earlier greeted them- but this time, Mr. Poe did not declare the case closed. Instead, he gave his handkerchief a lick, then started rubbing at Olaf’s ankle, until his tattoo was finally revealed.

“For the first time in my life,” Klaus said, looking at the newly exposed eye, “I’m happy to see that awful tattoo.”

“Bravo, children, bravo,” Olaf said, giving them an exaggerated slow clap. “Yes, I admit it. I killed Monty. And I also killed his assistant, Gustav- I drowned him in the reflecting pond. The question is, though, what are you going to do about it?”

“I am going to send you to jail for a very, very long time!” Mr. Poe declared, before addressing the troupe. “Officers, arrest this man!”

The five sinister adults were silent, making no move to follow Poe’s instructions. Their dæmons either stood or hovered behind them, showing a united front as well.

“You… you’re all in on this, aren’t you?” he said, and they nodded in response. Klaus groaned at how oblivious he’d managed to be.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking the children with me,” Olaf hissed, putting one hand on Klaus’s free shoulder, the other on Violet’s.

He might have been able to steal them away, even with Mr. Poe standing there- but there was one thing he forgot to consider. Even though Uncle Monty may be dead, the reptiles in his collection were still very much alive- and they were not happy. Within seconds, the room was filled with the sounds of hissing and screeching, of slithering and flapping.

“Boss, what do we do?” asked one of the white-faced women, her Siamese cat-dæmon leaping up into her arms.

“Relax, it’s just the screeching iguana clock!” Olaf replied.

“It’s not the screeching iguana clock,” she said.

“It’s the screeching iguana!” her sister concluded. They both ran from the reptile room, their three cohorts following suit.

Olaf groaned, and followed them out of the house, Poe and the Baudelaires close behind him. It was too late, though- no sooner had they made it outside, a white van with the word “Corner” written on it in black paint drove away.

“Wow,” Lizzie muttered, flying up to rest on Klaus’s head. “They can’t get away with murder _and_ they can’t spell.” Klaus wasn’t really listening to her, though.

“Count Olaf is driving away!” Poe exclaimed. Klaus wasn’t really listening to him, either. He was looking toward Uncle Monty’s hedge maze, where a tall figure in a white lab-coat was entering.

“No he’s not! He’s going into that labyrinth!”

“Maybe there wasn’t room in the van,” Eugenie suggested.

“What are you waiting for?” Klaus demanded. “We have to go after them!” He wasn’t sure if they were better off going after the van or Olaf, but either one would be better than standing around doing nothing.

“No, no, Klaus- a matter like this must be handled by the proper authorities. I’ll go call the police- the real police this time, I hope- and see if they can’t set up a roadblock or something.”

Klaus wanted to scream. That was his best idea? Calling the cops on the off-chance they’d agree to put up a roadblock that may or may not help? He was about to tell Mr. Poe exactly where he could stick his roadblock when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Let’s go,” Violet whispered, and before Mr. Poe could stop them, the three siblings took off in the direction of the labyrinth.

“Which way did he go?” Klaus asked, once they were inside.

“Scooby!” Sunny replied, by which she meant, “ _I don’t know! Let’s split up and maybe we’ll find him!”_

Klaus wasn’t sure how long he and Lizzie searched the maze before they finally bumped into a dead end- and Violet, Prospero, Sunny and Oliver.

“What do we do now? We’ve hit a dead end!” Lizzie said, her wings flapping in frustration.

“We could retrace our steps- maybe we missed something?” Violet suggested.

“What would be the point?” Klaus asked. “Everything’s gone all wrong! Count Olaf’s escaped, Uncle Monty’s dead, and we never got to go to Peru or say goodbye!” He pulled the movie ticket he’d found in Monty’s journal out of his pocket. “I didn’t get to ask him about this, either.”

“What’s that?” Violet asked. Klaus handed it to her so she could see it properly. “It’s Uncle Monty’s handwriting.”

“He must’ve copied it down while we were watching the movie- maybe that’s what the subtitles were for, to sneak some kind of code into the movie.”

“But, if that had been the case, wouldn’t we have seen it too? We were sitting right next to him.”

“Not necessarily, not if he had some secret way of receiving it.” He reached into his pocket to pull out the spyglass, only to find that both of his pockets were empty save for the dark blue notebook he’d started writing in yesterday. “It’s gone,” he said, with a sigh. “Olaf must’ve taken it.”

Just before Klaus was about to walk away back to the entrance, the hedge in front of them slid away to reveal a golden woman in a grey dress walking towards them. She held a brass spyglass in her hands, and her butterfly-dæmon flew around her head. It was the statue Klaus had seen earlier- though now he realised she was the lady in the red dress from the theatre.

“A good labyrinth is full of secrets,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Who are you?” Violet asked.

“Why are you dressed like a statue?” Klaus asked. He had a lot of questions, of course, but that seemed like the most relevant one after the one Violet had asked.

“Those are both excellent questions, Baudelaires,” the woman replied.

“Wait… you’re that actress from that weird zombie movie, aren’t you?” Violet asked. “The one who also works for Mr. Poe?”

“I prefer to think of myself as a volunteer,” the woman stated. Klaus wondered if he’d imagined the slight emphasis she’d placed on the word _volunteer._ “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to arrive on time to save your uncle, but I can still bring Count Olaf to justice.”

“Uncle Monty had a spyglass like that- so did our parents. What does it mean? What was he trying to tell us? And what’s in Peru?” Klaus asked.

“Never mind Peru- it’s been compromised.”

“But who was trying to message him? Who were we supposed to meet there?”

“I know you children have a great many questions, and I promise there are a great many answers,” she replied.

“Find your Aunt Josephine,” her dæmon continued- and Klaus was surprised to hear that the tiny butterfly had a woman’s voice. “She’s a fierce and formidable woman- she can keep you safe and tell you everything you need to know. Let us handle Count Olaf.”

“Count Olaf stole something from me- our parent’s spyglass.”

“I will get that back for you, Klaus Baudelaire- I promise.”

“Though if it looks a little battered, don’t worry about it too much- it won’t look nearly as bad as Count Olaf will once we get hold of him,” added her dæmon.

* * *

By the time they made it out of the maze, Uncle Monty’s driveway was crowded with large white vans- though these ones were labelled “ _The Herpetological Society,”_ and if the correct spelling was anything to go by, they were probably legit. It took Klaus a second to register why the vans were there, and what the people coming in and out of the house carrying reptile cages of various sizes were doing.

“Where are you taking Uncle Monty’s reptiles?” he asked. The herpetologists didn’t answer him- though Mr. Poe did.

“After I called the police, I called the Herpetological Society. They kindly offered to retrieve Dr. Montgomery's reptiles. Retrieve means take away.”

“We know what retrieve means,” Klaus replied. “Where will they go?”

“Well, they're orphans now. So they'll be moving on to other homes where their guardians hopefully won't die on them like Dr. Montgomery.”

“Snakey?” Sunny asked, looking like she was about to start crying for real any second.

“What my sister means is, can we at least say goodbye?”

“Of course not,” Poe replied. “After what you've been through, I'd think you'd never want to see a reptile again. Besides, there’s no time- I have to take you to your next guardian.”

“No!” Klaus exclaimed. After everything that had happened, he couldn’t let the woman’s instructions go unfollowed. He couldn’t let Mr. Poe take that away with a well-meaning phone call, too. “We already know where we’re going.”

“So do I- and I’m the adult, so I get to decide. You’re going-”

“We’re going to our Aunt Josephine,” Violet said, firmly. Poe frowned, but nodded.

“She is next on the list,” he replied.

* * *

Later, once the reptiles were gone and their jackets and suitcases had been retrieved, Klaus decided to broach the subject of the mysterious woman.

“Mr. Poe, what can you tell us about your secretary?” he asked.

“Oh, he was a terrible disappointment. Not only did he break the typewriter, but it turned out he was working for Count Olaf- surely you remember?”

“Poker,” Sunny muttered, by which she meant, _“Of course I remember him- he doesn’t have a poker face.”_

“I meant your other secretary,” Klaus replied.

“Oh, yes, Jacquelyn. She’s an excellent typist- though she’s got an unfortunate habit of going missing every now and then. I don't make it a habit of socializing with employees, so that's really all I know. Other than the fact that she came highly recommended by your parents.”

The two older Baudelaires looked at each other. Why was it that every time it seemed like they were about to get an answer to something, it either led nowhere, or it just led to a dozen more questions? Klaus was beginning to realise that everything was so much more hopelessly tangled than he could ever have anticipated- to the point that he wasn’t sure if they would ever be able to untangle it. He wasn’t even sure if he _wanted_ to untangle all of it.


	9. Violet

Chapter Nine- Violet

Their Aunt Josephine, it turned out, lived on the shore of a vast lake, Lake Lachrymose. It took almost two days to sail across that lake and reach Damocles Dock- by which point Violet was thoroughly sick of both large lake travel and Mr Poe and his incessant coughing.

It was a relief when they finally got there and disembarked from the Fickle Ferry onto the docks.

“That was exhausting,” Prospero muttered, clutching a lock of Violet’s hair in one of his tiny paws.

“Do you mean the lake or the banker? Because honestly, they were both just as bad.”

Mr Poe was frowning up at the sign for Damocles Dock, trying to pronounce the words written there.

“It’s pronounced Dam-oh-klees,” Klaus said finally, with a sigh. He looked around the docks. “Where’s our Aunt Josephine?”

“Oh, I expect she’ll be waiting for you at her house.”

“She’s not meeting us here?” Violet asked, frowning.

“No- she said she would prefer to wait for you to come to her- and frankly, I didn’t think it was polite to ask why,” Mr Poe replied, in a tone that suggested he didn’t think it was very polite that they had asked, either. “And since I haven’t got time to bring you to her, I’ll have to leave you here in this rather quiet town and get back to the bank. A taxi should be along shortly to bring you to your dowager aunt.”

“What’s that?” Violet asked.

“Why, Violet, I’m surprised at you. Surely a girl your age should know that a taxi is a car that’ll take you somewhere for a reasonable fee.” He handed the eldest Baudelaire a few banknotes. “This should just about cover it. And I have something else for you, in case you feel a little peckish on your journey.” Now, he produced a small, pink and white striped bag. “Peppermints!” he exclaimed, handing the bag to Klaus. “Lovely, delicious peppermints, my second favourite candy when I was young.” He smiled at each of them, then got back onto the ferry, his dæmon, Eugenie, close behind him.

Once he was gone, Klaus turned to his older sister. “A dowager is a fancy word for widow,” he explained.

“Thanks,” Violet said. Sunny wriggled in her arms a little, pointing at the bag of peppermints.

“Snack?” she asked. Violet shook her head.

“We’re allergic to peppermints, Sunny,” she told her. “I was sure Mr Poe knew that- he knew Mom for long enough, and she had the same allergy.”

“Goldfish,” Sunny remarked, by which she meant, _He doesn’t seem to have a particularly strong memory, does he?_

“It would seem that way, you’re right,” Violet agreed. Just then, a taxi pulled up. A man wearing glasses leaned out the window.

“Does anyone need a ride somewhere for a reasonable fee?” he asked. Violet nodded, and the three children walked up to the taxi.

Inside, they found another man sitting in the passenger seat, a couple of years younger than the driver. He was carrying a folded-up map in one hand and had a small pile of books on his lap, his tortoise-dæmon sitting on the top. There were more piles of books in the back of the car, one on each seat. Klaus lifted one pile, allowing Violet and Sunny to sit down, then added it on top of the pile in the middle. Then he lifted the other pile, and sat down, placing the pile in his own lap.

“Thank you for being so careful with them,” the driver said. “Most people would just throw them on the floor and be done with it.” His dæmon was a pheasant, Violet noticed. She sat in the foot-well, which didn’t seem especially comfortable, though he didn’t seem to mind.

“You can take one if you like,” said the other man. “It’ll cost you a tip, though.”

“A tip?” Violet asked, counting the banknotes in her hand. Would they have enough to spare for a tip?

“It doesn’t have to be money,” the driver said. “Just, whatever you can manage, that seems like a suitable exchange.”

They were quiet for a bit, as Violet looked at some of the books piled up beside her. On top of the pile was a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird, which she hadn’t read before. When she opened the cover, she found that two people had written on the title page in pencil.

_This isn’t as bad as L said it was- really don’t see why he hated it._

_I can see why- I definitely think it was as bad as L claimed._

“Who’s L?” Prospero asked, still perched on Violet’s shoulder.

“I don’t know- probably just someone they met at school or something,” she replied. Then she picked up the next book in the pile, and looked out of the window, trying to think of some way to pay for it.

“This town doesn’t seem very crowded,” Klaus observed as they continued to drive through the streets.

“That’s because it’s the off-season,” said the man in the passenger seat. “You should see it when the weather’s nicer- it’s a whole different story then.”

They started to drive up a steep hill; the lake spread out below them. It was so much larger than Violet had realised- a dark, inky blob that made her think of a giant monster that was hovering over her and her siblings.

“Speaking of the weather,” the driver said, “Hurricane Herman is due to arrive here in a couple of days- I hope you and your aunt have enough food in the house, so you’re ready for it when it hits.”

“I thought hurricanes only happened on the ocean,” Violet said.

“Usually, that’s true. Though on a body of water as large as Lake Lachrymose, anything can happen.”

* * *

Finally, they reached the top of the hill. Klaus climbed out of the car, while Violet stayed behind for a second so she could pay the fee.

“Do you want to take one of the books?” asked the man in the passenger seat. Violet nodded. “Alright, what’s your tip?”

“Um,” Violet trailed off, looking over the piles of books in the backseat. She didn’t know if this would work, but she figured it was worth a shot. “Have you read that book about the two kids who spent all their time running around the moors, until one of them got bitten by a dog?”

She could probably have summed up the plot better, but she had read that book a long time ago, and couldn’t remember most of the details. Both men frowned at her for a moment, before nodding.

“Thanks for the tip,” the driver said.

“You’re welcome,” Violet replied, then she tucked the book she’d wanted into her coat pocket, picked up Sunny again, and exited the taxi.

“Look at this place,” Klaus said, once Violet joined him. “Aunt Josephine must really be fierce and formidable if she’s brave enough to live all the way up here, and in a house like this.”

It took Violet a second to realise what he meant by that. On the outset, Aunt Josephine’s house did not look especially big. It quickly became apparent, though, that this was because only a small part of it was actually on the cliff. The rest of the house hung over the side, suspended on several metal poles which were attached to the cliff.

“Hardcore,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Aunt Josephine seems like a badass!_ Violet had to agree with her.

Together, the three Baudelaires approached the dark grey front door of their aunt’s house. There were three words written on the door, and perhaps if the Baudelaires had taken those words to heart, then this particular episode of their lives might have been much less unfortunate.

“Please go away,” Violet read out loud.

“Well, we can’t exactly do that, can we?” Prospero pointed out.

Violet nodded, and raised her fist, ready to knock on the door. Before she could knock, though, the door swung open, and Violet quickly lowered her fist so that the woman on the other side wouldn’t get the wrong impression. She already looked rather anxious- there was a slight hunch to her shoulders, and her gaze kept flicking from Baudelaire to Baudelaire, as though she was trying to keep a close eye on all three of them at the same time.

“Don’t knock!” the woman said. “If you knock, then you might get splinters, and those could then get infected- so, you must never knock!”

“Would you prefer it if we used the doorbell instead?” Violet asked. The woman shook her head. She had dark skin, and dark curly hair framing her face. Violet couldn’t see what her dæmon was, but she was half expecting it to be a mouse or a similar small animal.

“Oh, the doorbell doesn’t work. I didn’t want to risk electrocution, so I disconnected it.” She stepped aside to let the children enter the house. “You’d better come in. I’ll give you a tour, and then you can get unpacked.”

“Do you live with our Aunt Josephine, then?” Klaus asked. Violet had been wondering the same thing- they’d been told their aunt was fierce and formidable, not a nervous wreck with at least two frankly ridiculous fears.

“I _am_ your Aunt Josephine!” Aunt Josephine replied. Just then, Violet noticed her dæmon- a large golden eagle, who was standing on the ground beside her. “And this is Arthur,” she said, gesturing to her dæmon. This was definitely not what Violet had been expecting so far.

“Hello,” Arthur said, in a small voice that made him sound more like a sparrow than an eagle.

“Let me show you around your new home,” Josephine said and led the Baudelaires inside. There was no rug on the floor, Violet noted, just a thin blue carpet, which matched the blue wallpaper. On one side of the entranceway, there was a kitchen, while on the other there was a flight of stairs. The whole house seemed cold and bleak- and the blue and cream colour scheme certainly didn’t help matters.

“Here’s the phone,” Josephine said, pointing to a white phone which sat on a small table, and was covered in a glass case. “I scarcely ever use it, though- and I would advise the three of you to do the same. Only use the phone in an emergency, please, and try to keep your conversations to a minimum, in order to avoid the risk of electrocution.”

“I’ve read plenty of books on phones, and they’re quite safe to use,” Klaus told her.

“Well, you can’t be too careful,” she replied. “Now, here is the kitchen,” she said, gesturing towards it. “Please don’t come in here without adequate supervision. There are far too many dangerous things in here.”

“Do you have a lot of sharp knives?” Violet asked.

“I have one- but there’s also the normal knives, the forks, the oven, the stove, the blender, the toaster, and the fridge, to name but a few of the many dangers a room like this could contain. Of course, I don’t have a blender any more- they’re too dangerous to keep in the house, and there is no real need to have one, is there?”

“Delmo,” Sunny muttered, by which she meant, _Wow- is there anything she doesn’t think is dangerous?_

“Delmo?” Aunt Josephine asked. “What do you mean by _delmo?_ I consider myself an expert on the English language, and I have never heard of the word delmo.”

“Sunny doesn’t really speak proper English yet, just, baby talk, mostly,” Klaus explained.

“Edur,” Sunny said, which meant, _I know that, but hey!_

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Josephine replied. “Come with me.” She brought them out of the kitchen and stopped in front of a door which stood beside it.

“Which room is this?” Violet asked curiously.

“It’s a surprise,” Josephine told her. “One that is going to give you all of the answers you could need. I wasn’t quite certain that you were ready, but then Sunny said _delmo,_ and I knew that the three of you couldn’t wait any longer.” With that, she opened the door- taking care to push it open, rather than use the doorknob.

Inside the room, they found a room unlike any they had seen before. Two of the walls were taken up with large bookcases. There was a decent-sized desk in one corner, and a gold statue of a girl holding a sword in the other. But it was not the bookcases, or the desk, or the statue that caught the attention of the Baudelaire orphans. Their attention was drawn to the wall across from them. It was made almost entirely of glass, apart from two wooden beams- mullions, Violet thought they were called- which divided the glass into three sections.

The children made their way towards the wide window and looked out. Once again, they were taken aback by the vast dark entity that was Lake Lachrymose.

“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Aunt Josephine said, following their gaze. “I know every inch of this lake, I’ve been to every cave and beach on its shores, and every island in its waters. Now, though, I can only look at it from afar- the thought of getting any closer is too frightening. That was why I couldn’t come to fetch you children from the dock.”

“Did something happen on the lake?” Violet asked, turning to face her new guardian.

“Yes,” Josephine replied. “My husband, Ike, and I used to have picnics there. We would often invite your parents, too- we were great friends in those days. We would go for picnics in all manner of fine places, and develop our own secret codes.”

“I didn’t know our parents developed secret codes,” Klaus said.

“Those were fierce, formidable days when so many things seemed possible. Until our last picnic, that is, when Ike decided that he wanted to go swimming. I told him he should wait an hour- but he only waited forty-five minutes.”

“Did he get cramps?” Klaus asked. “That’s usually what happens when you don’t wait an hour before swimming.”

“Cramps are one reason, yes, but in Lake Lachrymose there is another. Part of the lake is a breeding ground for the Lachrymose leeches. They are different from normal leeches, because they have six rows of very sharp teeth, and one very sharp nose, which can smell the tiniest bit of food from thousands of miles away. And if they smell food on a human, then they will swarm around him and… and...” She trailed off, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m sorry, children. It is not grammatically correct to end a sentence with the word and, but I get so upset when I think about Ike, that I cannot talk about his death.”

“We’re sorry for bringing it up,” Violet said. “We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s quite alright, Violet,” Josephine replied.

“Aunt Josephine, you said that you had answers for us,” Klaus said.

“Thank you for reminding me,” she said. “Now, as I said before, I consider myself to be an expert on the English language- which means that I also consider it to be my duty to impart the knowledge which I have acquired in this field to those who may lack it. This is where the three of you come in, of course.” She gestured, now, to the shelves full of books. “In this room, you will find the finest tool you could ever want in order to help make sense of this confusing and frightening world- grammar!”

“Grammar?” Violet asked, confused. This was not what she had been expecting. And it was possibly incorrect- surely a critical and empirical mind would be a more useful thing to help you make sense of the world, not grammar.

“Yes- it’s the greatest joy in life, don’t you find?” She smiled brightly at the chance to discuss it. “Since Ike’s death, I have made it my mission to study everything I can about grammar- and now I finally have three new charges with which I can share my knowledge.”

“What does grammar have to do with developing secret codes?” Klaus asked.

“You used the wrong tense there, Klaus. You _should_ have said, what _did_ grammar have to do with developing codes?”

“What did grammar have to do with developing secret codes?” Klaus tried again.

“Absolutely nothing!” Josephine replied. Just then, the clock in the library chimed. “Would you look at the time?” she asked. “Why don’t we all have lunch? Who wants soup?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Violet agreed, following her guardian back to the kitchen.

* * *

It turned out, however, that when Aunt Josephine had mentioned soup, she had actually been referring to cold cucumber soup. On its own, of course, there is nothing wrong with cold cucumber soup- on a warm day, it can be a cool, refreshing dish. However, on a cold day, in a cold, draughty house, it was perhaps one of the worst things Josephine could have given the children.

Klaus, however, appeared to be in search of something even colder. At least, Violet assumed that was why he was standing over by the fridge. Then she realised that the fridge door wasn’t open, and that her brother was sort of staring blankly at it- as though he wasn’t really seeing it at all. Even Lizzie, who was perched on top of his head, seemed unusually still.

“Klaus, you okay over there?” Violet asked. Slowly, Klaus seemed to wake up, and turned to face his sisters and guardian. Lizzie blinked her large eyes a couple of times, before lying down to rest on Klaus’s arm.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Klaus said, before taking a seat at the table and attempting to eat his soup.

“I hope you enjoy the recipe,” Aunt Josephine said, as though nothing strange had just happened. “I learned it on a visit to Egypt, where I was briefly employed as a snake charmer.”

“Our father lived in Egypt for a while before we were born,” Violet said. “Is that when you-”

“I don’t talk about that!” Aunt Josephine cut her off.

“When we were living with Uncle Monty-” Klaus began.

“I don’t talk about that!” she repeated.

“But, there was this statue-”

“Klaus, I said, I don’t talk about that!”

“You don’t talk about that, or you won’t?” Violet asked, starting to get annoyed.

“This is one of those rare grammatical instances where don’t and won’t mean the same thing. I knew your parents a long time ago, when the world was very different. But I don’t talk about that, and you won’t hear about it. I shouldn’t have to tell you, children, that there are many things to be afraid of in this world. The safest strategy is to be afraid of them all.”

“Tola,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Yeah, that explains a lot._

“I prefer to think of happier things,” Aunt Josephine said. “The joys of grammar, for instance, and how much Ike enjoyed the sunshine.” She sighed. “I like to imagine that wherever he is now, it’s as warm and sunny as can be. Of course, nobody knows what really happens when you die, but I like to imagine that my husband is someplace hot.”

“What about you, Aunt Josephine? Do you think that if you moved somewhere warm and sunny- or, at the very least, a cold and cloudy place that’s far away from Lake Lachrymose- you would feel better, and maybe feel more comfortable with discussing some of the things that you don’t and won’t talk about?”

“I could never sell this house!” Josephine exclaimed.

“Are you too attached to it?” Violet asked, hoping, praying that her guardian would have a normal explanation as to why she didn’t want to move house.

“No- I can’t sell this house because I’m afraid of real estate agents.”

Violet closed her eyes and let out an exhausted sigh. So much for their fierce and formidable Aunt Josephine. This was going to be a long, long four years.


	10. Klaus

Chapter Ten- Klaus

After lunch, Aunt Josephine led them upstairs to their room. The room was a good size, with two beds and a crib for Sunny. The walls, curtains, carpet and bedding were all in varying shades of blue, which gave the room a quiet, rather sad air. But it was also clean, and they each had their own beds, so it wasn’t the worst room they’d ever slept in.

The children sat on one bed, and Josephine, after retrieving a dark blue bag from the wardrobe, sat across from them. Arthur continued to stay on the floor. Klaus was starting to wonder if he would ever see the large eagle-dæmon take flight, or if he would always be too afraid to do so.

“I’ve bought each of you a present,” Aunt Josephine said. She reached into the bag, and produced a doll. “This one is for you, Violet. Her name is Pretty Penny. Isn’t she adorable?” 

“She looks a little like Madame Curie,” Violet replied, smiling politely at the doll.

“For Klaus, I have a deck of cards.” She’d tied a ribbon around the deck, which Klaus had to admit he appreciated- even of he didn’t particularly care for card games. “I’ve never been a young boy myself, but I hear that they enjoy card games.”

“I once read a book on the history of legalised gambling,” Klaus said.

“And, for little Sunny,” Josephine continued, pulling a small yellow object out of the bag, “I have a rattle.” She gave it a little shake. “See? It makes a little noise.”

“Sensiv,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _I’m not sure I like that sound._

“What was that, Sunny?” Josephine asked.

“What my sister means is, she thinks it’s very generous of you to get us gifts, and we agree with her,” Klaus translated, as Lizzie then shifted into a cat, gave Oliver a pointed flick with her tail, and then shifted into an owl again.

“I’m glad you like them,” their guardian said. Then she looked at Lizzie, who was now perched on Klaus’s arm. “Oh, and that reminds me, there’s something else I wanted to give you.” Reaching into the bag, she produced a brown leather arm guard. “Klaus, this is for you. At least for the time being- if your dæmon does not settle as a bird, then we can keep it aside for Sunny when the time comes.”

“Thank you,” Klaus said. Lizzie flew off his arm and went to perch on the headboard of the bed, while Klaus rolled up his sleeve and secured the guard around his forearm.

“You’re welcome. It was given to me when I was a little older than you are now- hopefully it will still be sturdy enough.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Klaus replied, as Lizzie flew back over to him and perched on his arm.

“Now, I know that my home isn't the warmest place, but if you follow the rules, it will be a safe one. And as your guardian, your safety is my greatest responsibility. That is why I put cans near all the doors and windows each night. In case any burglars come in, they trip over the cans and wake us up.”

“But what if we’re awake in the house with an angry burglar?” Violet asked.

“I’m sure we can cross that bridge when we come to it,” Klaus said, wanting to move away from this subject as quickly as possible. “Anyway, we have a slightly more pressing concern- Hurricane Herman is supposed to be heading our way very soon.”

“Oh, dear!” Josephine exclaimed. “I hadn’t realised that. We’ll need to get food and supplies- we must all go to town immediately, there’s no time to hesitate!”

“Maybe… maybe my sisters and I should stay here?” Klaus suggested, sensing an opportunity to investigate the house.

“Good point. You never know what could happen in a small town- you ever read Thornton Wilder?” She paused. “Perhaps we should all stay here.”

“Of course, but what if we run out of food in the middle of a hurricane?” Violet asked, like she was starting to sense the same thing Klaus had sensed. “Wouldn’t that be frightening?”

“Terrifyingly frightening?” Klaus added.

That seemed to do the trick. Aunt Josephine left, after making the children promise not to do anything dangerous.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she called.

“Of course not!” Violet replied.

As soon as they heard the door close, however, they set about doing all of the things that their guardian most certainly wouldn’t do. They lit a few candles, then used their newly developed cookery skills, as well as Josephine’s fairly limited supply of food, in order to make themselves a hot meal of pasta.

“Sunny, I know you don’t like the noise the rattle makes, but maybe I could use it to invent a burglar alarm- that way, Aunt Josephine won’t have to rely on piles of cans.”

“And you can have my deck of cards,” Klaus said, taking the small deck from his pocket and handing it to Sunny. “You enjoy playing poker more than I do.”

“That leaves you with the doll,” Violet said.

“Plenty of boys enjoy playing with dolls- although, I’d rather have a book.”

“You can have the one I got from the taxi drivers, if you want,” Violet said. “It’s The Turn Of The Screw.”

Klaus had already read Turn Of The Screw, but didn’t feel like pointing this out. “How did you get it?” he asked, instead. “I didn’t think we’d have enough money for a tip.”

“I recommended that they read Wuthering Heights, if they haven’t already. I don’t know, I thought that if I was gonna take a story, then I ought to give one back, in return.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” He frowned. “You should keep the book, though. I’ve already read it, and you did pay for it, sort of.”

“That doesn’t seem fair, though, that we’re getting something out of this and you’re not really getting anything.”

“It is what it is- Aunt Josephine tried her best to get us gifts, even though she didn’t know what we liked, and I appreciate you offering me a book, even if it’s one I’ve already read. Really, we shouldn’t complain.”

“You’re right. Things could be a lot worse, even if Josephine is afraid of everything and this house isn’t very warm. We shouldn’t complain.”

Klaus sighed, and put down his fork for a moment. “I wanna complain anyway.”

“Let’s get to work,” Violet said, pushing back her bowl of pasta.

* * *

“Where should we start?” Klaus asked.

“I’ve got an idea,” Violet replied. “It may not come to anything, but it’s worth a shot.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Aunt Josephine said that she doesn’t talk about her past, suggesting that it’s something she would rather not have to look at or confront. And where might you put something if you didn’t want to have to look at it?”

The three Baudelaires were quiet for a moment, thinking. Klaus remembered a box he’d had at home, before it got lost in the fire. It was where he would put any book that he tried to read, but found that he wasn’t ready for.

“I’d put it under the bed,” he said.

“So would I,” Violet replied.

“Same!” agreed Sunny.

“So, we start by looking under Aunt Josephine’s bed,” Violet said.

* * *

They made their way into Aunt Josephine’s room, which had the same blue colour scheme as theirs.

“Should we do this?” Klaus asked, as they stood in front of her bed.

“We’ll just have a quick look, see what’s here, and then we’ll go,” Violet replied. She knelt down on the ground, putting Sunny down beside her. Klaus knelt too, Lizzie changing into a cat and sitting next to him. “Let’s take one box each, and go from there.”

Klaus pulled out a box full of books. At the top, there were a couple of books about Lake Lachrymose. He put those to one side, thinking they could come in handy. Next, there was a collection of horror novels, then a few detective novels- each of which said “Property of Ike Anwhistle” written on the inside cover.

“She’s probably too scared to read the horror novels, and too sad to read the ones belonging to Ike,” he observed.

Then there was a section of children’s novels. Some were classics, Black Beauty and Anne Of Green Gables and books like that, others were more recent. Some were geared towards boys, some were geared towards girls. Some were for little kids, and some were for kids closer to Violet’s age.

“What are these for?” Klaus asked. “Aunt Josephine and Ike didn’t have any children, did they?”

“Maybe they’re for us,” Lizzie suggested.

“No, surely if that were the case she’d have them in our room, where we could actually read them, not tucked under the bed with the things she doesn’t want to- oh.” He trailed off, realisation dawning. Aunt Josephine and Ike must’ve been planning on having children of their own- but Ike must’ve died before they could get round to it. These books were probably reminders of the future they could've had, reminders that Josephine didn’t want to see.

Finally, at the bottom of the box, there was a large black book, with _The Incomplete History Of Secret Organisations_ written on the cover. Klaus pulled it out of the box, and was about to open it up and have a look through it, when Violet nudged his arm.

“Hey, take a look at these,” she said, showing Klaus a small pile of photographs. Her box had contained mostly objects from around the house- a kettle, a couple of knives and a pencil sharpener- that Aunt Josephine was too afraid to keep around the house.

Most of the photos were of Aunt Josephine and Arthur, performing several daring deeds- including wrestling with an alligator and sky-diving. Several of them included a man wearing glasses, with a nightingale for a dæmon.

“That must be Ike,” Klaus guessed.

Then he saw the last photo in the pile. It showed a group of people standing in a row. At one end stood Uncle Monty, Antonia curled around his shoulders. A woman with a large grey owl-dæmon stood beside him, then a dark-haired couple- a woman whose dæmon was a robin, and a man whose dæmon was a bat- and an anxious-looking man with a small dog for a dæmon. Josephine and Ike were there, too, and a dark-haired young man with a squirrel-dæmon, who was the only one not looking at the camera.

But it was the two people who stood next to this young man who really caught Klaus’s attention. They may be several years younger than they’d been when Klaus saw them last, but that didn’t matter. He still recognised them immediately- they were his parents.

“Who are these people?” Violet asked, pointing to the other adults in the photo.

“I don’t know,” Klaus said. Just then, there was the sound of a door opening. “Shit, we’ve gotta get back to the library.”

Quickly, they put the books, photos and other objects back in their boxes. Klaus took care to put the books back the way he’d found them- the big, black book on the bottom of the box, then the children’s books, then Ike’s books and the horror novels, and finally the books about Lake Lachrymose.

The only things they kept were the group photo, and a pocket guide to the lake, which was small enough that it probably wouldn’t be missed. Then, they calmly made their way down the stairs, hoping that Josephine wouldn’t notice that they hadn’t come from their own room. As soon as they saw their guardian, and who was standing beside her, though, they wanted to run straight back up the stairs.

There was a man standing next to Aunt Josephine, dressed as a sailor, with a long dark coat and a white hat. One of his eyes was covered up with a black eyepatch, and his dæmon was a scarlet salamander.

“Hello, children,” Aunt Josephine said.

“He- hello, Aunt Josephine,” Klaus replied, unable to believe what he was seeing.

“Go through to the library, children- I have something to tell you.”

Quickly, the children made their way down the rest of the stairs and into the library. Violet set Sunny down in one of the chairs, and sat down beside her. It wasn’t until they were all seated, and away from Aunt Josephine and her guest, that Klaus realised something. Arthur had been sitting on their guardian's arm, not standing at her feet. Before he could think too much about what that meant, Aunt Josephine came into the room.

“I have some very exciting news, children. I found something very interesting at the town market and petting zoo, something positively wonderful.”

“What did you find?” Klaus asked, digging his nails into his arm, trying to convince herself that this wasn’t really happening.

“I’ll get to that in a moment, Klaus. Now, children, I know that I am a disappointment to you and to countless others.” She sighed. “Believe it or not, I used to be a fierce and formidable woman. Your parents and I were more than friends. We were associates. We were colleagues, comrades, collaborators, allies, volunteers! But these are troubling times.”

“I know you miss Ike very much,” Violet said. Klaus, meanwhile, fiddled with the straps on his new arm guard, and wished that both of them would get to the point. He didn’t want to hear more about Josephine’s backstory, he wanted to know what the Hell Count Olaf was doing in their front hall.

“And I know you miss your parents very much,” Josephine replied. “It's a curious thing, the death of a loved one. It's like climbing the stairs to your room in the dark, thinking that there's one more stair than there is. And your foot falls through the air, and there is a sickly feeling of dark surprise.”

“That’s… that’s exactly what it’s like,” Klaus said. As much as he wished Josephine would get to the point, he had to admit, he agreed with her on this.

“It's terrifying. But today I realized, as I was surrounded by cucumbers and limes, you can't be terrified forever. I think I am ready to be fierce and formidable again, and I think we can do it together.” Arthur flapped his wings in agreement, and Lizzie mimicked him, trying to show that they really could do this together.

“That sounds good,” Klaus conceded. “But that doesn’t explain-”

“Children, do you think I could leave you alone for a little while longer? He wants to take me to dinner.”

“He _what?”_ Klaus asked.

“Klaus, that is not grammatically correct. You ought to have asked, he wants to take you where? Or better yet, you should have simply asked me to repeat what I said.”

“We don’t have time to learn grammar, Aunt Josephine. We need to talk to you about your dinner date,” Violet said, firmly. “You can’t go, it’s not safe.”

“Don’t start, Violet,” Aunt Josephine said, even more firmly. “It is daunting enough going to eat warm food with someone, I do not need you telling me all of the other things that could go wrong on a date. Besides, it isn’t necessarily a _date,_ it’s just two adults discussing their tragic pasts over two fried egg sandwiches. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get a different cardigan, one that’s a bit more flattering to my figure- and one that hasn’t been torn up by Arthur’s claws. Be nice to him, will you? Try and make small talk while I go and get my sweater.” She stood up, and called out, “Captain, come through here, will you?”

“I’m hobbling as fast as I can, Josephine!” came a rough, scratchy voice.

Violet pulled Sunny into her lap, and shuffled closer to Klaus on the couch. Their window of opportunity to tell their guardian what was going on was closing rapidly, as Count Olaf walked into the library.

“Well, good evening, children,” he said. “My name is Captain Sham, and my home is the sea.”

“No it isn’t,” Violet snapped.

“Well, technically it’s by a large lake, but that hardly matters.” He smiled at each of the three orphans. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“We’ve already made your acquaintance,” Klaus said. “You’re Count Olaf!”

“Count Olaf?” Aunt Josephine exclaimed. “Why would you bring up such a dreadful person? Count Olaf! Just as I was working up the courage to go put on my cardigan. Good thing we have a sea captain to keep us safe.”

“Aunt Josephine, this not a sea captain, this is Count Olaf!” Klaus tried again.

“Klaus, I am shocked!” Aunt Josephine said.

“I’m telling the truth!”

“I’m shocked at your grammar. You can't say, _This is Count Olaf._ The proper sentence is, _He is Count Olaf.”_

Klaus groaned, and Lizzie flapped her wings a couple of times in frustration. Was this really the time to be correcting his grammar? He was trying to tell her something important, that could be the difference between life and death.

“Who is this Count Omar person? He sounds quite handsome,” Olaf replied.

“It’s _Olaf,”_ Klaus snapped. “Just look, he has the same shiny eyes, the same single eyebrow-”

“Klaus, grammar!” Josephine interrupted. “That is an eyepatch!”

“What about his tattoo?” Violet asked. “Count Olaf has a tattoo of an eye on his left ankle.” It was just then that the children noticed Olaf’s leg- or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Where his lower left leg had been previously, there was a thick stump of wood. Meaning there was no sign of his ankle, or his tattoo.

“Violet, as you can see, this man's left ankle was devoured during his duties as a sailboat rental agent. That's how the two of us met, actually. I was shopping for limes.”

“Scarlet?” Sunny tried, pointing to Olaf’s dæmon.

“Scarlet isn’t a full sentence, though at least it is a word- perhaps we won’t have to start completely from scratch with your grammar lessons,” Josephine replied.

“What my sister means is-” Klaus began.

“We’ll discuss what she meant in a moment. First, I want to tell you three how this exciting turn of events happened.”

Klaus really, really didn’t care how this had happened. As Olaf started to tell the story, he tuned it out, continuing to fiddle with the straps of his arm guard instead. He studied the wooden stump that had replaced the villain’s left ankle, and wondered if it was real. Last time, he had covered his tattoo with make-up powder- could this be a similar cover-up? Klaus wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case- though it didn’t really solve their problems, since it was probably going to be much harder to convince anyone why they should look past it this time.

“...Perhaps I should review it one more time,” Josephine said, cutting into his inner monologue. “I- T- apostrophe- S means _it is,_ I- T- S means _its_ , belonging to it.”

“I’m sure they understand the lesson, Josephine,” Olaf cut her off. “After all, these three children aren't blithering morons, are you, Baudelaires? No, they're wonderful, obedient little orphans. Maybe one day, they'll also let me take them on a boat ride, very far away.”

“Dulac!” Sunny snapped, by which she meant, _Go jump in the lake!_

“Ahoy, a hairless pygmy!” Olaf yelled, glaring down at her.

“She’s a baby, and you know that!” Violet replied, glaring right back at him.

“We'll discuss what sort of pygmy she is later. In the meantime, the adults have a date.”

“I’ll go and get my cardigan,” Aunt Josephine said.

“Aunt Josephine!” Violet protested.

“Oh, Violet, calm down,” their guardian replied. “I'll be back in a jiffy!” And with that, she left the room, leaving the three children alone with Count Olaf.

“So… long time, no see,” Olaf said, giving the children a sinister smile.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Violet said, standing up, taking Sunny with her. Klaus stood beside her, willing Lizzie not to change into a mouse, thus betraying his growing fear.

“Why, there’s nothing to get away with. I’m just a sea captain, who’s romancing a fierce and formidable woman-”

“You aren’t a sea captain, though,” Klaus pointed out. “You’re nothing but a-”

“I most certainly am a sea captain,” Olaf replied. He started walking towards them, so they had to back away, out of the library and out into the hall. “It says so on my business cards, see?” He held out a small white card, displaying his false identity, and the grammatical error that Josephine had objected to.

“Business cards aren't proof of anything. Anyone can go to a print shop and have cards made that say anything they like,” Klaus replied.

“Well, you're just a heap of facts, aren't you, Klaus?” Olaf snapped. “Facts and facts and facts and facts! But none of them do you any good. Just like poor Uncle Monty. And your parents, may they rest in ashes.”

Just then, Aunt Josephine came down the stairs, wearing a fluffy purple cardigan. She had one sleeve rolled up to reveal a leather hawking glove, bigger and sturdier than the small guard on Klaus’s arm. Better protection for a bigger bird, Klaus realised, noticing that Arthur was still attached to his guardian’s arm. The effect made her look a lot stronger, more like the sort of person one would expect to have an eagle as a dæmon.

“I’m ready to go now, Captain Sham,” she called.

“Aunt Josephine, we have to tell you something,” Klaus said, hoping to take advantage of his guardian’s apparent boost in confidence and convince her to stand up to Olaf.

“That's right!” Olaf cried. “Stay back, Josephine! Stay back! There's lit candles in here!” He walked into the kitchen, where the remains of the children’s dinner- including the still-lit candles- were on the table. “Everyone remain calm. Remain calm! Oh, the heat! The heat!” He blew out the candles, then let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “The danger has passed. It's fine now. The orphans tried to engulf your entire house in flames, but it's fine now.”

“Oh, thank you, Captain Sham,” Aunt Josephine replied. Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose. Another opportunity gone, and now their guardian was gonna think that they were insane arsonists on top of everything else.

“Please… call me... Julio,” Olaf replied. _Julio._ Where did he get these fake names from, anyway? And why did each one somehow manage to sound more ridiculous than the last? “Now, let’s get a fried egg in you, madam.”

“What the fuck?” Lizzie hissed. Thankfully, Josephine didn’t hear her.

“I would like that very much,” she replied, instead.

“Though the orphans would like to say they're sorry, wouldn't you, orphans?”

“We're very sorry,” Violet said, and Klaus and Sunny nodded in false agreement.

“We'll speak no more about it, Baudelaires. Clean up the dishes and go to bed.” She paused, before speaking again. “And no more candles!” she added.

“Yes, Aunt Josephine,” Klaus replied, with a sigh.

“Or doorknobs!”

“Of course,” Violet said.

“Or…

“Come now, Josephine,” Olaf cut her off before she could give them any more reminders. “Our romantic ride in the back of a taxi awaits.” He turned to the children, before ushering their guardian out the front door. “Don't wait up, orphans.”

* * *

When they were alone, Violet sighed, and strode back through to the library, Klaus following her. He pulled out the pocket guide, which had a few pages on the town and its various eateries.

“We have to go after them,” he said. “There are at least half a dozen egg sandwich restaurants within driving distance, and about four more in the town as a whole. We'll walk into town. If we see those taxi drivers, we can ask them where he took them.”

“What do we do when we find them?” Violet asked. “Aunt Josephine's fallen for Count Olaf's disguise and for Count Olaf.”

“Maybe so, but we haven't,” Klaus pointed out. “Whatever Count Olaf's scheme is, we have to stop it.” He tucked the guide back into his pocket, and led the way out of the house.

No sooner had they left, though, than a long black car pulled up outside the house. Klaus frowned at it, wondering who that could be at this hour. Then he spied a dog’s head hanging out the window- not just any dog, a wrinkly brown pitbull- and remembered where he’d seen a dog like that before, milling around Uncle Monty’s house, following at the heels of one of Olaf’s five sinister accomplices.

“Shit,” he said, looking from the car to the house to his sisters. The car drew up in front of them, and Klaus saw that all five of Olaf’s cohorts- the bald man with the pitbull-dæmon, the man with hooks for hands, the two white-faced women and the dark-haired one with the nuthatch-dæmon.

“Where do you three think you’re going?” the hook-handed man said. “Young people shouldn’t be wandering around at this time of night, when there are dangerous people lurking around.”

“Go back in the house,” said one of the white-faced women.

“Where it’s safer,” continued her sister.

“And strangers can’t get you,” concluded the first woman.

There was a startled little squawk from beside them, and the dark-haired henchperson spoke up. “Where are the strangers?”

“What are you doing here?” snapped the hook-handed man, turning to face his cohort. “I thought you were guarding the waiter!”

“I thought they were,” replied the henchperson, pointing to the two white-faced women.

“We thought he was!” they countered, pointing to the bald man.

“So, nobody's guarding the waiter?” the hook-handed man asked. The other four henchpeople nodded in agreement. The man groaned, then turned to face the Baudelaires. “Don’t go anywhere, brats- we'll be keeping an eye on you.”

* * *

The children went back into the house, and walked back through to the library.

“What do we do now?” Klaus asked.

“There is one thing we can do,” Violet replied. “There’s another way we can get out of here.” She pointed to the wide window.

“We can't get out that way,” Klaus said, wondering why she would even think something like that would be a good idea. “Even if that window could open, it's at least a hundred foot drop.”

“Or a hundred foot climb,” Violet said, pulling her ribbon out of her pocket and starting to tie up her hair. “I saw some fishing nets in the kitchen. I could braid them into a ladder.”

“Violet…” Klaus tried to cut in.

“We could break the window and climb down,” she continued, appearing not to have heard him.

“Violet…” he tried again.

“We'd reach the water in no time…” she trailed off.

“Then what?” Klaus asked.

“I don't know,” she admitted, going to sit over on the couch. “I don't know what to do. We don't even know what Count Olaf's plan is.”

“We know he wants to use Aunt Josephine to get our fortune,” Klaus said, sitting beside her. “So, maybe he's going to kill her, like he did Uncle Monty.”

“Or maybe he's gonna marry her, like he tried to do with me. I can think of a hundred different outcomes, all of which are terrifying.”

“That must be how Aunt Josephine feels,” Klaus replied. “Maybe she's right,” he continued. “The world is scary and we should be afraid. No matter where we go, Count Olaf will be there. No matter who we tell, no one will listen to us. There is nowhere safe for us… and no guardian can help us. And our parents are never coming back.”

“It may be too late to change their fate, but it’s not too late for Josephine,” Violet pointed out. “Even if she didn’t protect us from Count Olaf, we can still protect her. We have to warn her, even if it's dangerous.”

“You don't sound scared,” Klaus said, impressed.

“It’s like Mother used to say- do the scary thing first-”

“And get scared later,” Klaus finished. “I'll see what I can find.”

“And I'll work on that ladder.”

There is a famous expression, _You can't lock up the barn after the horses are gone_. Simply put, it means that sometimes even the best of plans will occur to you when it is too late to put them into action. And it was an expression which was about to become very relevant to the lives of Klaus and his sisters, as they busied themselves with carrying out their plans to help their guardian, only to be interrupted by the sound of a window shattering.

“What was that?” Violet said, setting down her ladder.

“It sounded like a window shattering,” Klaus replied, closing his book. “Aunt Josephine!”

Klaus picked up Sunny, and together the three children ran through to the library. The room was freezing cold, more so than it had been earlier, and it was immediately clear why this was the case. The wide window had been shattered, a human-sized hole in the middle of it.

“Aunt Josephine?” Violet called, but it was no good.

Klaus closed his eyes, remembering the morning, just a matter of days ago, that he and his sisters had woken to find their Uncle Monty had been murdered in the middle of the night, and knew that all of their careful planning had not been enough to stop the tragedy from being repeated. They had locked up the barn door, but their Aunt Josephine was already gone.

“Look,” Violet said, holding up a piece of paper that had been stuck beneath a pile of books. “ _Violet, Klaus and Sunny,”_ she said, beginning to read the note aloud. “ _By the time you read this note, my life will be at it's end.”_ She shook her head, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Klaus could scarcely believe it, either.

“ _My heart is as cold as Ike, and I find my life inbearable,”_ Klaus continued for her, taking the note. They continued to read it between them, swapping every couple of sentences when it got too much.

* * *

It is impossible to go back, of course, and tell the Baudelaires that their fears that night were entirely rational. It is impossible to go back and tell them anything at all, just as it is impossible to restore Josephine Anwhistle’s house back to its rightful place on the cliff overlooking Lake Lachrymose. There is one thing that is possible, though. It is possible to know that as the children read their guardian’s note, and believed her to be dead, that they were wrong. Josephine Anwhistle was not dead at all. At least, not yet.


	11. Violet

Chapter Eleven- Violet

“Dear Violet, Klaus and Sunny: By the time you read this note, my life will be at it's end. My heart is as cold as Ike, and I find my life inbearable. I know your children may not understand the sad life of a dowadger, or what would have lead… leadled me to this desperate akt… but please know that I am much happier this way. As my last will and testament, I leave you three in the care of Captain Sham, a kind and honorable men. Please think of me kindly, even though I'd done this terrible thing. Josephine Anwhistle.” Violet looked from the note in her hand to the broken window in front of her. “It can’t be,” she breathed.

When you lose someone important to you, _it can't be_ are often the words that run through your saddened head. It can't be that I've lost someone so important. It can't be that I will never see them again. It can't be, it can't be, it can't be. And it was these three words that were rattling around in Violet Baudelaire’s head as she read her guardian’s note again, and as she believed, albeit incorrectly, that she would never see her Aunt Josephine again.

After a long and sleepless night, the Baudelaires dragged themselves downstairs to the kitchen. They found a box of cornflakes and a carton of milk, and made themselves a quick breakfast. It wasn’t until they were sitting at the table eating their cereal that Violet realised, they had made the sort of breakfast their guardian would’ve approved of- at least, Violet was pretty sure she would’ve. Unless she’d been anxious about the possibility of lactose intolerance, of course. She shook her head. What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t be thinking about her guardian like this, not when something so severe had happened to her.

After breakfast, she decided to phone Mr. Poe. Something about this whole thing really didn’t feel right, and though she highly doubted that the banker would be able to help them, she really didn’t know who else to ask for help.

“If only we knew how to get in contact with that statue lady,” Prospero said, as Violet dialled Mr. Poe’s number. “I bet she’d be able to help us.”

“We don’t know anything about her, not really,” Violet pointed out. “And she clearly failed to apprehend Olaf, otherwise we wouldn’t be in this mess.” Just then, the call connected.

“Mulctuary Money Management, this is Arthur Poe speaking.”

“Hello, Mr. Poe,” Violet said.

“Violet Baudelaire? Why are you calling at this time of day?”

Quickly, she filled him in on what had happened, finishing by reading the note aloud.

“This truly is some disturbing and unfortunate news,” Mr. Poe said. “Rest assured, that you can always rely on Mulctuary Money Management for help in these difficult times, and be sure to tell your siblings the same.

“Of course, I'll tell them. Goodbye,” she replied, before setting the phone down with a sigh. “Mr. Poe says we can always rely on Mulctuary Money Management.”

“I just can't believe it,” Klaus said, taking the note from Violet.

“It's all there in ink and shaky handwriting,” Violet replied. “Aunt Josephine is dead and she's left us in the care of Count Olaf.”

“It's not right,” Klaus said, frowning down at the note. “There's something funny about this note.”

“There's nothing funny about a woman throwing herself out a window.”

“I don’t mean that kind of funny, as in a funny joke. I mean it’s funny as in a funny... smell. Let me show you.” He beckoned Violet to stand beside her, and pointed to the note. “In the very first sentence, she says, _My life will be at it's end.”_

“And now it is.”

“That’s not what I mean. She says _it's_ , I- T- apostrophe- S, meaning _it is._ She means I- T- S. That's a sizable grammatical error.”

“Who cares about grammatical errors when she jumped out a window?” Violet asked, failing to see how this was relevant.

“Aunt Josephine would've cared,” Klaus pointed out. “She said grammar was the greatest joy in life.”

“But that isn’t enough. It doesn’t matter how much she liked grammar- she says she found her life unbearable.”

“That's another error. She didn't say she found her life unbearable, with a U. She said she found her life inbearable, with an I. That's not a word. Our situation isn't inbearable, with an I. It's unbearable, with a U.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “ _You’re_ being unbearable, with a U,” she snapped.

“And you’re being stupid, with an S!” Klaus countered. Lizzie shifted into her cat form, and hissed and spat at Prospero, who glared down at her.

“Aget!” Sunny shrieked, by which she meant, _Please stop fighting!_ Violet looked at her baby sister, who was cuddling Oliver tightly, petting the grey-brown fur of his wolf cub form like it was the only thing that could give her any sort of comfort. Then she looked at Klaus and Lizzie, both of whom had lost their anger almost as quickly as they had gained it.

“I’m sorry, Klaus,” Violet said. “You’re not unbearable, this whole situation is unbearable.”

“I’m sorry too, Violet,” Klaus replied. “You’re not stupid, you’re very clever. Hopefully you’re smart enough to help get us out of this mess. Aunt Josephine left us in the care of Captain Sham, and I don't know what we can do about it.”

“If only I hadn’t read Mr. Poe the note. Then we could've torn it up and forged a new one in her handwriting that didn't mention Captain Sham.”

“Wouldn't it be difficult to imitate her handwriting?” Klaus asked, frowning. “Unless…”

“Unless it's not her handwriting at all,” Violet concluded.

* * *

“Forgery?” Mr. Poe asked, once they explained their theory, and waited for him to stop coughing. “Baudelaires, I hope you understand what a serious charge that is.”

“It’s not as serious as murder, which is what Count Olaf did,” Violet pointed out.

“He murdered Aunt Josephine, and he forged this note.”

“Again with Count Olaf. I must say, other than a gaping, middle-aged woman-shaped hole in the window, I can see no sign of a struggle or a break-in.”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you- Count Olaf didn’t have to break into Aunt Josephine's house. He was in disguise and Aunt Josephine fell for it, hook, line and sinker,” Klaus said.

“Please, there's no time for fishing jokes. There's a very simple way to tell who wrote this note. We simply have to compare it to your Aunt Josephine's handwriting.”

“That's... actually an excellent idea,” Violet admitted.

“You are very intelligent children, but even the most intelligent people sometimes need the help of a banker,” Mr. Poe replied, Eugenie giving a condescending little nod in agreement. “Now, do you have anything with Josephine’s handwriting?”

“We have her shopping list,” Violet said, going to fetch it from the kitchen. “We can use it to compare the writing.”

Violet lay the shopping list down beside her guardian’s suicide note, and realised that they might have a problem. Now, Violet was not a graphologist, a word which refers to a person who is an expert at studying handwriting. She was an expert at mechanical engineering and having inventive ideas. Klaus wasn’t a graphologist either- he was an expert at recalling relevant facts and quotations from books. And Mr. Poe was most certainly not a graphologist- so far as Violet knew, he wasn’t really an expert at anything, except perhaps being patronising towards vulnerable children and ignoring their complaints. But even with their shared, limited experience, they could all see, plain as day, that the handwriting on both pieces of paper was identical.

“Look here,” Mr. Poe said, as if it wasn’t obvious. “Look at the V in _Several gallons of Vinegar,_ and how it matches the V in _Violet_ she wrote in the note. And look at the C in _Cold Soup Ingredients,_ and how it matches the C in _Captain Sham._ And look where she writes _I think shopping is terribly dangerous_ and how it matches _think of me kindly, even though I'd done this terrible thing.”_

“It should be _I've done this terrible thing”_ Violet said, spying another grammatical error.

“Yes, it is a terrible thing, and I'm sure it's very upsetting to read. But once and for all, we can see the note is not a forgery.” Violet hated to admit it, but he was right. “Which does beg the question,” Poe continued, “of what makes you think that this Captain Sham person go through so much trouble just to place you under his care?”

“We've already told you, Captain Sham is Count Olaf in disguise,” Klaus said, shaking his head.

“Now then, I know you three have had some terrible experiences, but you mustn't start letting your imaginations get the best of you. Remember when you were staying with Uncle Monty? You were convinced that his assistant, Stephano, was actually Count Olaf in disguise.”

“Stephano _was_ actually Count Olaf in disguise,” Violet pointed out.

“That isn’t the point. The point is that you can't just start jumping to conclusions. You've jumped to the conclusion that this note was a forgery, and now you're jumping to the conclusion that a villainous man who swore he'd stop at nothing until he got ahold of your parents' enormous fortune is involved in some plot to get ahold of your parents' enormous fortune.”

Violet wondered if Mr. Poe could hear himself speak, or if he just heard a vague buzzing noise in his head whenever he opened his mouth. It genuinely wouldn’t surprise her if that was the case.

“You don’t have to believe us,” she said, going over to the window. “You can see for yourself. His troupe has been camped outside all night keeping an eye on us.” She pulled open the curtain, only to find that the black car that had appeared last night was now nowhere to be seen.

“Well, I see an approaching hurricane, but no theatrical troupe. It's like I said, Baudelaires. You're letting your imagination get the best of you. Imagination's all well and good for children's books or overly convoluted fanfiction, but this is real life.”

 _Was_ it real life? Sometimes Violet wished that it wasn’t, thinking things would be much easier if this were just an overly dramatised story, and not something that was happening for real. And other times it all felt too horrible to be real, as though surely she and her siblings had known far too much misery for any three people to reasonably experience.

“Mr. Poe, you have to believe us when we tell you that Captain Sham really is Count Olaf. Even if Aunt Josephine’s note isn’t a forgery, that doesn’t mean there isn’t something suspicious going on.”

“Just look at the note,” Klaus said. “It’s full of grammatical errors!”

“Children, disguises and grammatical errors, these are dire accusations, but they're easily investigated. We can settle the whole matter over brunch.”

“Brunch?” Violet asked, blinking in surprise.

“Yes, it's a word for the combination of breakfast and lunch,” Mr. Poe replied, obviously not understanding why she was confused.

“We know what brunch means,” Klaus said, indignantly.

“That’s good- it means you'll have an easy time with the menu. Captain Sham's invited us all to a restaurant to talk this over.”

“You've already spoken with Captain Sham?” Violet asked. She was getting a really, really bad feeling about all of this.

“Yes, by some strange coincidence, he called me accidentally, trying to reach a knife store to buy a surprise for some children he knows.” Again, Violet wondered if Mr. Poe was aware of the things he was saying, or if he just tossed them out into the world without a second thought- or a first thought, for that matter. “He was shocked to hear about Josephine's death, but overjoyed at the prospect of raising you children. What sailor wouldn't be?”

“We're not going to brunch with that villain,” Klaus said. “We'll stay here and examine the note.”

“Oh, no, no, Baudelaires. I want to settle this matter once and for all. They tell me Hurricane Herman is going to be so enormous and menacing it'll most likely shut down all electric power in the city,” Poe replied. “So I want to settle this quickly, put you in the hands of a sailor I just met on the phone, before returning safe and sound to the city.” Violet knew she shouldn’t be shocked by Mr. Poe’s warped priorities, but this seemed like a new low, even for him. “Children, I promise to investigate this man Captain Sham to the fullest extent of my ability as a banker. If he's in disguise as you claim, the eyes of Poe will catch it immediately.”

“I feel so reassured, don’t you?” Prospero muttered, as the children went to fetch their coats.

* * *

There is a plant, which you probably know about, called the Venus Fly-Trap. It grows in the tropics, and occasionally in people’s houses or apartments. The top of the plant is shaped like an open mouth with toothlike spines around the edges. When a fly, being attracted to the smell of the flower, lands on the Venus flytrap. The mouth of the plant then begins to close, trapping the terrified fly who slowly, slowly, slowly, dissolves into nothing. As Violet and her siblings arrived at their brunch with Count Olaf, a few minutes late because Mr. Poe missed the turn, all three of them felt as helpless as a fly as Count Olaf's evil scheme closed around them. Sadly, they would not learn for a long time that someone was there, desperately trying to help them.

“Uh, hello, I'm Larry, your waiter,” said Larry, the Baudelaires’ waiter. He was an anxious-looking, rather skinny man whose dæmon was a small dog, and Violet was sure she’d seen him somewhere before, but she wasn’t sure where. “Welcome to the Anxious Clown Restaurant, where everybody has a good time whether they like it or not. I can see we have a whole family lunching together, so allow me to recommend the Extra Fun Special Family Appetizer. It's a bunch of things fried up together and served with a sauce.”

“Well, that sounds wonderful!” Olaf exclaimed. “Extra Special Family Fun Appetizer for an extra special family- mine.”

“I’ll just have a glass of water, thank you,” Violet said, not wanting any part in this _extra special family._

“I’ll have the same,” Klaus said. “And could my baby sister have a glass of ice cubes, please?” Larry scribbled their orders down, saying nothing about the unusualness of what they’d ordered for Sunny.

“I'll have a cup of coffee with non-dairy creamer, please,” Poe said.

“Oh, no, Poe. Let's, uh, share a nice bottle of red wine,” Olaf countered, ignoring the fact that it was only eleven am.

“Oh, no, thanks, Captain Sham. I don't drink during banking hours.”

“Yeah, but it's a celebratory brunch. We should drink a toast. After all, it's not every day that a man becomes a father of three children.”

“Please, Sham. It's heartening to know that you're glad to raise the children, but you must understand, the children lost their Aunt Josephine. They're rather upset.”

“I'm upset, too,” Olaf said, wiping his one visible eye. “I'm… I'm probably more upset, actually. Josephine was my, uh… uh… Josephine was my oldest and dearest friend.” He gave an exaggerated sniffle, and Mr. Poe handed him a spare handkerchief. “Thank you.”

“You met her yesterday at the town market and petting zoo,” Violet countered.

“It really does seem like yesterday, but actually it was many years ago. She and I met at cooking school. We were oven partners in the Advanced Baking Course.”

“You weren't oven partners,” Klaus replied. “Aunt Josephine was desperately afraid of turning on an oven.”

“Soon we became fast friends, and then one day she said to me, _If I ever adopt some orphans and then meet an untimely death, promise me that you will raise them as if they were your own._ Of course, I agreed, but I had no idea I would have to keep that promise.”

“Wait, is Josephine dead?” asked Larry the waiter, who was still standing by the table.

“Yes. Josephine Anwhistle jumped out of the window of her own home late last night. Didn't you hear?” Olaf asked.

“I didn't realize this was a sad occasion,” Larry said, frowning. His dæmon appeared even more anxious than he did, her gaze fixed on Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver. “In that case,” he continued, “allow me to recommend the Cheer-Up Cheeseburgers. The pickles, mustard and ketchup make a little smiley face on top of the burger, which is guaranteed to get ya smilin', too. So make sure you look inside before you eat it.” He flashed the children a pointed smile.

“Well, that's a wonderful idea!” Olaf exclaimed. “Cheer-Up Cheeseburgers for everyone, Larry!” With that, Larry finally went through to the kitchen.

“Odd service, here,” Poe commented.

“It's the off-season,” Olaf explained.

“I want to make it absolutely clear,” said Mr. Poe, while they were waiting for their drinks. “The Baudelaire fortune will still be under my supervision until Violet comes of age.”

Violet rolled her eyes. Everything came back to that stupid fortune eventually. As reassuring as it was to know that they would be provided for, and would have the financial security required to live independently and comfortably when they were adults, she hated knowing that protecting that money seemed more important to Mr. Poe than protecting Violet and her siblings.

“I didn’t even know they had a fortune,” Olaf replied, playing dumb.

“Jansue,” Sunny muttered, by which she meant, _Yeah, sure you don’t._

“When Mr. and Mrs. Baudelaire died, they left behind an enormous fortune, which the children while inherit once Violet comes of age.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have any interest in anything like that,” Olaf replied. “My sailboats are more than enough for me to be getting on with.”

“Mr. Poe, you have to listen to us, this man is-”

“Here are your beverages!” announced Larry the waiter. “We have the coffee, for the gentleman, a Fuzzy Navel for the sailor, and water and ice for the Baudelaires.”

“You know our names?” Violet asked, confused.

“Of course I don’t know your names!” he said, before disappearing back into the kitchen, his dæmon trotting along at his heels.

“I’ve completely forgotten what we were saying,” Mr. Poe said, dropping a couple of sugar cubes into his coffee. “Don’t you hate that?”

“We were saying that man is Count Olaf,” Violet said.

“What, the waiter? He did seem odd,” Olaf said.

“No, not the waiter, you! You’ve done something terrible to Aunt Josephine, and now you’re scheming to get our fortune!” Klaus exclaimed.

“Why would Captain Sham do something terrible to his closest friend?”

“Why indeed, Poe?” Olaf replied. The scarlet salamander stuck her tongue out at the three Baudelaires, like she was taunting them. Still, Violet persisted.

“He isn’t Captain Sham!” she protested. “He’s Count Olaf!”

“Baudelaires, I've been more than patient with you,” Poe said. “I understand that losing your parents and your home has had an emotional effect, as I imagine it would have on many people. I've done the best I can to find a suitable home for you, but nothing I do seems to be good enough. And now, faced with a perfectly legal last will and testament that will place you in the care of a sailor you met yesterday, you start to spout these wild, McCarthyesque accusations.”

Violet closed her eyes and groaned. This was like talking to a brick wall- Mr. Poe thought that they were being obtuse, yet he was the one refusing to listen to a word they were saying.

“But if you insist,” he continued, “I will prove to you that Captain Sham and Count Olaf are two completely different people, step by step, as if you were babies!”

“Fennive!” Sunny shouted, by which she meant, _Hey, that’s offensive!_

“Here are your Cheer-Up Cheeseburgers!” announced Larry the waiter.

“Count Olaf has one long eyebrow, while Captain Sham has one eyepatch,” Poe explained.

“I meant to ask…” Larry said, reaching between the two adults so that he could hand over the children’s burgers one by one. “Do any of you have any food allergies?”

“Count Olaf has a tattoo of an eye on his left ankle, while Captain Sham has a thick wooden stump instead of a left leg,” Poe continued.

“The correct term is peg leg,” Olaf chipped in.

“I just want to be sure, so I can inform the chef- who I’m sure wouldn’t want anyone to have an allergic reaction,” Larry said, handing Klaus his burger. “Especially if it would force them to leave the restaurant.”

“Count Olaf would’ve only just met your Aunt Josephine, while Captain Sham has known her for many years,” Poe added. “And perhaps most importantly, Count Olaf is a murderous man who’s only interested in your parents’ fortune, while Captain Sham has expressed great interest in raising you children without touching a single penny.”

“We’re allergic to peppermints,” Violet informed the waiter, deciding not to dignify Mr. Poe’s comparisons with a response just yet.

“So, can we all agree that Captain Sham has none of the hallmarks,- earmarks or benchmarks of Count Olaf?” Poe asked.

“If we could just go back to Aunt Josephine's house,” Violet said, determined not to let the matter drop. “There's something strange about that note.”

“We've already been over the note, Baudelaires, and we’ve concluded that it isn’t a forgery. And the grammatical mistakes are merely the nervousness of any woman who was about to throw herself out a window.” He turned to Olaf, ignoring the three children. “Now, Captain Sham, I have some papers in my briefcase that I need you to sign.”

“And then the children will be mine?” Olaf asked, producing a pen from one of his coat pockets, obviously eager to get started.

“You'll be caring for them, yes,” Poe replied.

“And there's nothing in the world that can stop me?”

“Well, that is rather a peculiar way of saying it, but, yes.”

“I brought the bill,” Larry said, emerging once again from the kitchen. “You can take your time, though- I'm sure none of you are in any particular hurry.”

He set the bill down on the table, along with three wrapped peppermints. The Baudelaires looked down at the small sweets, recognising that they had just been given an opportunity to get out of here, and determined to take it.

Of course, everyone is allergic to something- it could be gluten, injustice, peanuts, corruption or even common decency. The Baudelaires were allergic to peppermint, a trait they had inherited from their mother. Their allergies were notoriously quick-acting and powerful. Of course, if you are allergic to a thing, it is best not to put that thing in your mouth, particularly if the thing is cats. But Violet and her siblings knew that this was an emergency. The strange message they had received seemed to indicate there was more for the Baudelaires to investigate, but not until after they got away from Count Olaf and his miserable lunch. So while Mr. Poe began to tell a very boring story, the children unwrapped their peppermints, and placed them into their mouths.

“You look terrible!” Mr. Poe exclaimed, interrupting his own boring story.

“Colm,” Sunny muttered, scratching at a growing red patch on her face. By Colm, she meant, _Well at least we got him to shut up about milk._

“We're having allergic reactions,” Violet explained.

“Goodness gracious, Violet, you have huge, ugly, red patches on your skin. Klaus, your tongue is swelling. Sunny, both things are happening to you!”

“I'm sure it's nothing,” Olaf said, dismissively.

“Nothing? Violet has a hive on her face the size of a hard-boiled egg!” Poe exclaimed.

“They just need to take some deep breaths,” Olaf replied, with a shrug.

“I think we should go home and rest,” Violet said, knowing that her siblings weren’t really in a position where they could talk, with their swollen tongues and everything.

“An excellent idea,” Poe agreed.

“Poe, it's in the middle of brunch!” Olaf protested. “Just lean back in your seats, you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Captain Sham, the children are quite ill. Let's pay the bill and take the children home.”

“No, no,” Violet said, smiling calmly at the two adults. “We can go home by ourselves.”

“I wouldn't dream of leaving you alone,” Olaf replied, glaring at her.

“Well, there is the matter of the paperwork to go over to make the adoption official,” Poe said. “And frankly, I would like to take advantage of the Fickle Ferry's prehurricane special reduced ticket prices.”

“Yes, finish the paperwork and have a relaxing lunch,” Violet agreed. Captain Sham can come fetch us at Aunt Josephine's house.”

Lifting up Sunny, Violet got up from the table. Klaus joined her, and together they walked towards the door of the restaurant.

“I’ll see you very soon,” Olaf informed them, before they walked out and closed the door behind them.

* * *

When they emerged from the restaurant, the winds were starting to pick up, proof that Hurricane Herman had finally arrived.

“Bluh bluh bluh bluh bluh,” Klaus said, his swollen tongue making it impossible for Violet to understand him.

“I can’t understand what you’re saying!” Violet replied. “I wish I had time to work it out, but we have to get back to Aunt Josephine’s house before it’s too late!” Frantically, she looked around for a taxi- they didn’t have any money left from their trip yesterday, but it had to be worth a try.

“Hey, do you kids need a lift?” a voice called. It was the taxi driver who’d driven them up to their guardian’s house yesterday, the man with glasses and a pheasant for a dæmon.

“Yes- but we don’t have any money,” Violet admitted, walking over to the taxi.

“That’s okay- you can give us a tip instead, and we’ll say no more about it.”

Violet didn’t really want to think of a suitable tip- she was too anxious about getting to Aunt Josephine’s house. Still, grateful for what was essentially a free ride, she made herself think of something, and started to tell a story about another orphan girl who liked to tell stories. She went over the miscommunication that led to this girl being adopted by two elderly siblings, who eventually agreed to keep her after getting to know her a little better. She described the adventures the girl had, the friends she made, and the troubles she overcame. She was just getting to the part where the girl accidentally dyed her hair green when they pulled up outside Aunt Josephine’s house.

“Thank you for taking us up!” Violet called to the driver, as she and her siblings climbed out.

“Don’t worry about it!” he replied, before driving away.

“Now,” Violet said, once they were back inside the house. “We don't have much time before Hurricane Herman arrives.”

“I’ll bluh bluh the library,” Klaus replied, his swollen tongue already becoming less of a hindrance to his ability to speak coherently.

“Good idea,” Violet said. “Sunny and I will take baking soda baths to treat our hives, while you begin your research.” Klaus nodded, and Violet and Sunny left the room.

When they came back, Klaus had a pile of grammar books beside him, and he’d put a paperweight on top of the note.

“That baking soda bath did wonders for our hives,” Violet said, setting Sunny down on one of the chairs. “How’s your swollen tongue?”

“Search?” Sunny asked, by which she meant, _And how’s your research?_

“My tongue is improving,” Klaus said. “And as for my research, see for yourselves.” He’d drawn red circles around some of the words in the note, and written some notes of his own in a small blue notebook.

“What is all this?” she asked.

“It's Aunt Josephine's note,” Klaus explained. “I’ve marked out all of the grammatical errors, starting here.” He pointed to the I- T- apostrophe- S mistake that they’d noticed earlier.

“I remember- Aunt Josephine wrote _it's_ as in _it is,_ when she meant _its_ as in _belonging to it.”_

“I think that was just to get our attention. Look at the second sentence- _My heart is as cold as Ike.”_

“But Aunt Josephine said she liked to think of her husband someplace hot,” Violet pointed out. “ _As cold as ice_ would make a lot more sense.

“Exactly!” Klaus replied. “Unless these aren't grammatical mistakes at all, they're a message. Aunt Josephine said she and Ike developed secret codes. C for _ice_ instead of _Ike._ U for _unbearable_ instead of _inbearable.”_

“R for _your_ children instead of you children,” Violet continued, looking to the next error Klaus had highlighted.

“The extra D in _dowager,_ spelling act with a K instead of a C,” Klaus went on.

“Honourable _men_ instead of honourable _man,_ and _leaded_ instead of _led,”_ Violet concluded, with a frown. “That’s a lot of grammatical mistakes for someone who cares so much about grammar- but what do they mean?”

“Well, if you take all the letters involved in the mistakes, they spell out the words Curdled Cave.” He frowned, set down his pen and tucked the blue notebook into his pocket. “That doesn’t make much sense either, though- why would her last words be about a cave?”

“They might not be her last words at all,” Violet replied. “Maybe she only wants people to think she’s dead- people who don’t care about grammatical errors.”

“People like Count Olaf,” Prospero suggested.

“Exactly. What if she’s alive, and wants us to know where she’s hiding?”

“We have to get to Curdled Cave,” Klaus said.

“Sherlock!” Sunny replied, by which she meant, _Yeah, no shit, Sherlock! How are we gonna get there, though?_

“There’s bound to be a map in here,” Klaus said, pulling a pocket guide to Lake Lachrymose out of his pocket and flipping through the pages. “See, it looks like the Fickle Ferry goes directly to the Lavender Lighthouse, which is right next to the cave.”

“I saw the schedule when we arrived at Damocles Dock,” Violet said. “The Fickle Ferry leaves every 17 minutes.”

“Then let's gather everything we might need,” Klaus said, just as there was a gust of wind, and the whole room began to tilt.

“Everyone, grab onto something!” Violet yelled, grabbing the nearest bookcase for lack of something better. Sunny managed to grab onto one of the lamps, which, thankfully, was fixed to the wall and low enough for her to reach. Klaus, on the other hand, did not have time to grab onto anything, and began to slide down the tilting floor towards the broken window, “Klaus!” Violet screamed. “Grab onto the carpet!” It wasn’t much, but it was the best he’d be able to do.

Unfortunately, Klaus continued to slide towards the window, though fortunately he stopped just before he could fall through it and into the lake. Finally, the wind died down a little, and the room righted itself. Violet ran over to Sunny and grabbed her, before darting out of the room. She didn’t know if they were in the clear now, and she didn’t want to take her chances.

“Klaus, get over here, now!” Violet screamed.

Klaus ran towards the door, and was nearly out of the room when he slipped and fell again. This time, though, he was nearly catapulted out of the window, with only the carpet to cling to for support, to stop himself from falling into the lake below.

“Klaus!” Sunny shrieked. “Klaus!”

Finally, the room was righted once again, flinging Klaus back into the room and onto the library floor. Scrambling to his feet, he ran out of the room to join Violet and Sunny, and together the three children ran out of the house.

“We’re okay,” Violet said, slumping down onto the front step. “We’re okay now.”

Just then, they heard a creak, and a cracking sound. Violet scrambled to her feet and turned around, realising in that second just how lucky she and her siblings had been to get out of the house when they did. Because right at that moment, Aunt Josephine’s house began to crumble, collapse and, finally, the whole building fell into the lake.

“What… what do we do now?” Klaus asked, staring at the space where the house had once been.

It had started to rain, and while Violet knew that should bother her- especially since she didn’t have her coat any more- she really didn’t care at that moment in time. Pulling her ribbon out of her pocket, she looked at the now empty cliff one more time, then turned to face her brother.

“We find our Aunt Josephine.”


	12. Klaus

Chapter Twelve- Klaus

The United States Postal Service has a motto: Neither rain nor sleet nor driving snow shall halt the delivery of the mail. What this means is that no matter how bad the weather outside may be, the people in charge of delivering the mail must crack on and do so anyway, whether they like it or not.

The Fickle Ferry, however, does not have any such policy- in fact, due to the lack of visitors during the off season, the ferry company has ended up adding the words “Weather Permitting” to the bottom of their schedule, in fine print- meaning, you might not realise it’s there until it’s too late.

“Weather permitting!” Klaus exclaimed, shouting to be heard over the storm. He and his sisters had already had to make their way down the hill through the wind and rain, and even though they’d taken it in turns to wear Klaus’s jacket, they were all still pretty cold and wet by the time they reached Damocles Dock, so when they saw this addition to the Fickle Ferry sign, it was the last straw.

“What does that mean?” Violet asked.

“It means the Fickle Ferry isn't running at all!”

“Then how are we gonna get to Curdled Cave?”

Klaus looked around, hoping to find some kind of solution. Fortunately, there were about a dozen sailboats tied up to the docks, seemingly unguarded.

“I have an idea, but it’s not exactly by the book,” he said.

“Who cares about that? We can deal with moral dilemmas after we get Aunt Josephine back!”

“Right. In that case, we’re gonna steal a sailboat, take it across Lake Lachrymose and find Curdled Cave on our own. We can use the pocket guide I brought from Aunt Josephine’s house if we get lost.”

Violet nodded, then pointed to three raincoats, one red, one blue and one yellow, which were hanging up outside the sailboat rental agency building.

“Klaus, you grab those, Sunny and I will get one of the boats!” she called.

Klaus went over to grab the raincoats. He was about to walk back over to the boat when a movement caught his eye. A tiny, blue and yellow bird sat behind the window, peering out at him. It was a bird he’d seen several times before, most recently in a car that had stopped outside Aunt Josephine’s house the previous night. It wasn’t an ordinary bird, it was a dæmon.

“Shit,” Klaus muttered.

He realised that Olaf had put one of his accomplices in the building- specifically, the dark-haired henchperson, who Klaus could see sitting on an old couch and sort of staring into space. He was about to turn around and run back to his sisters, when the henchperson’s dæmon opened their small beak. Klaus wasn’t sure what they had said, but it was enough to get the henchperson’s attention, and they turned to look right at Klaus.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said, grabbing the raincoats and running over to the boat Violet had borrowed. “Violet, we have to go, now- we’ve got company.”

“Shit,” Violet agreed, putting on the red coat and buttoning Sunny into the yellow one.

Klaus put on the blue coat, tucking his notebook and the photograph he had found in Aunt Josephine’s house in the waterproof pockets, and all three orphans climbed into the boat.

“Let’s get out of here before they come out and stop us,” Klaus said, pointing to the rental agency building.

“They? You mean there’s more than one of Olaf’s cronies in there?”

“No, just the one,” Klaus replied. “Though that’s not important- what’s important is we go, right now, and find Aunt Josephine!”

Then, they untied their boat, grabbed the oars and sailed out into the storm. Now, of course, sailing a sailboat during a hurricane is already a bad idea that nobody should attempt to do, no matter how desperate the situation. Klaus had never sailed a sailboat even in calm weather, however, and had only a vague idea of how they worked. He’d read a few books about sailboats, though, and hoped that this would help.

“I’ve read a bit about sailboats!” he shouted. “All we’ve got to do is use the sail to catch the wind!”

“I've seen this lever in naval blueprints!” Violet added. “It's called the tiller, it steers the ship! Sunny, you sit here and work the tiller, I’ll work the sail. Klaus, you keep checking that pocket guide so you can keep track of where we are. Now all we have to do is sail across Lake Lachrymose in the middle of a hurricane!”

Klaus pulled out the pocket guide and tried to flip through it, but it was hard to focus on anything he was reading when their sailboat was constantly being buffeted about by the storm, narrowly avoiding the plethora of dangers that Lake Lachrymose contained.

“Mind the whirlpool!” he shouted, as they just managed to avoid the Wicked Whirlpool. “And watch out for the rocks!” he added, as they nearly crashed into the Rancorous Rocks.

* * *

Finally, when it seemed like they couldn’t take much more, Klaus and his sisters learned something that any local weatherperson could tell you- all storms eventually break, even Hurricane Herman.

The children looked around the lake, which was now calm and still. The faint purple beam of the Lavender Lighthouse swept over their sailboat, and it was as though there had never been a hurricane at all.

“Lake Lachrymose is actually really pretty,” Violet said. Prospero poked his small head out of her coat pocket, and looked around.

“I never noticed it before,” Klaus agreed. “I guess we got used to looking at it through Aunt Josephine’s eyes.”

Taking an oar each, Violet and Klaus rowed the rest of the way to the craggy entrance of Curdled Cave, where they spotted a sign that seemed decidedly out of place.

“Curdled Cave is for sale?” Klaus asked, frowning at the sign.

“Who would want to live in such a phantasmagorical place?” Violet asked.

They parked the sailboat on the thin strip of beach outside the cave, and climbed out. There was a strange sound floating out of the cave, that sounded a little like wailing.

“What is that sound?” Violet asked.

“Just the wind... probably,” Klaus replied. “I read that when wind passes through small spaces, like caves, it can make strange noises. It's nothing to be afraid of.”

“I'm afraid of it anyway,” Violet said.

“Same,” Sunny added.

Together, the Baudelaires walked into the cave. Violet held Sunny close, and Klaus held onto Violet’s arm. Lizzie and Oliver shifted into their mouse forms, huddling in Klaus and Sunny’s coat pockets, while Prospero stayed tucked away in Violet’s pocket.

Their fears were soothed, however, when they saw that the wailing sound was coming from their Aunt Josephine, who was in one piece and sitting on a rock, Arthur walking around on the ground beside her.

“Aunt Josephine, are you okay?” Violet asked.

Aunt Josephine hopped down from her rock, and went over to the Baudelaires, smiling at them.

“You worked it out!” she exclaimed. “I knew you could figure it out! I knew you would decode my message!”

“Well, Klaus was the one who really did it,” Violet pointed out.

“But Violet knew how to work the sailboat- without her, we never would’ve made it here.”

“Well, I am really glad to see all of you. Just let me catch my breath and I’ll help you bring in your things.”

“Our things?” Violet asked, frowning at Aunt Josephine. “What are you talking about?”

“Your luggage, of course!” Josephine replied, like it was obvious. “Now, I hope you’ve brought food- I’m out.”

“We didn’t bring any food,” Klaus said, really not liking where this was going.

“You didn’t bring any food? How in the world did you expect to live with me in this cave if you didn’t bring any food?”

“We didn’t come here to live with you!” Violet said.

“Then why did you come?” Josephine asked.

“Hego,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Oh God, here we go again._

“Whatever that word was, Sunny, it was grammatically incorrect,” Josephine replied. “Maybe one of your siblings will explain in correct English why you’re here.”

“Because Captain Sham almost had him in his clutches!” Violet snapped. “Everyone thought you were dead, and in your will and testament, you wrote that we should be placed in the care of Captain Sham!”

“He forced me to do that!” Josephine protested. “We were only halfway through our fried-egg sandwiches when Captain Sham told me that he was really Count Olaf. He said I had to write out a will saying you children would be left in his care, or he would drown me in the lake. I was so frightened that I agreed immediately, but hid a secret message I hoped you children would find. Of course, then I knew my life was truly in danger- so I waited for my opportunity, and faked my own death. It's a good thing I remembered to put gas in my recreational watercraft, otherwise I really would’ve been in trouble.”

“Aunt Josephine, why didn’t you take us with you?” Violet asked. “Why did you leave us all alone by ourselves? Why didn’t you protect us from Count Olaf?”

“Oh, Violet,” Josephine said, with a sigh. “It is not grammatically correct to say _leave us all alone by ourselves._ You can say _leave us_ _all alone_ or _leave us by ourselves,_ but not both. Do you understand?”

“Lofu,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Oh for the love of fuck, is this the time?_

“That didn’t sound grammatical either, but we’ll say no more about it. We have all had a very tiring day, but I don’t think Captain Sham will ever find us here. We can share Curdled Cave for the rest of our lives!”

“We’re not staying here! We’re taking the sailboat back to the town, and we’re taking you with us!” Violet said.

“No way, José,” Josephine replied. “I am far too frightened of Count Olaf to face him!”

“But if you tell Mr. Poe what happened, then Count Olaf will be locked away, and we’ll all be safe,” Klaus pointed out.

“You can tell him that if you want, but I am staying here!” Josephine protested.

“But he won’t believe us unless you come along and prove you’re alive!” Violet replied.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I am too afraid!”

“We're all afraid!” Violet snapped. “We were afraid when you brought home Count Olaf. We were afraid when we thought you had jumped out a window. We were afraid to give ourselves allergic reactions, we were afraid to steal a sailboat, and we were afraid to make our way across Lake Lachrymose in the middle of a hurricane. But that didn't stop us!”

“I can't help it if you are braver than I am. I can't do it. I am going to live here for the rest of my life, and there is nothing you can say that will change my mind!”

Klaus frowned, then he snapped his fingers, an idea coming to him. Reaching up, he wiped away the rain from his glasses, then walked up to Aunt Josephine.

“You know that Curdled Cave is for sale, right?” he asked.

“So what?” Aunt Josephine replied.

“Well, that just means that before long, certain people are going to want to look at it. And some of those people…” he paused, leaning in to whisper the last part in her ear, for dramatic emphasis. “Will be real estate agents.”

“Okay, let's go,” Josephine said, following them out of the cave.

Once they were out onto the lake, however, it did not take long for Aunt Josephine to start panicking. Again.

“Uh-oh,” she muttered, over and over again. “Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh.”

“Aunt Josephine, I really do wish you'd stop saying that,” Violet said. “Hurricane Herman is over, the sailboat is working perfectly and we'll be back to Damocles Dock by morning. We're as safe as can possibly be expected.”

“Peppdine?” Sunny suggested, by which she meant, _If you must repeat something over and over, could you at least sing a song or recite a poem or something?_

“Maybe… maybe it would help if you could think back to a time when you were a little more fierce and formidable,” Klaus suggested, pulling the photograph he’d found under Josephine’s bed out of his pocket and showing it to her.

“Where did you find this?” she asked.

“In the library,” Klaus replied. It wasn’t technically true, but right now that seemed beside the point. He didn’t want to admit that he and his sisters had been looking under Josephine’s bed while she was out at the market.

“I haven’t seen this photograph in years,” Josephine said, smiling down at it. “Look, Lucky Smells Lumbermill,” she added, pointing to the tall chimneys that were in the background of the picture. “That’s not far from here, you know.”

“Is that Ike?” Klaus asked, pointing to the man who was standing beside Josephine in the picture. He knew that it was, of course, but he also sensed that if he could keep Josephine talking about the picture, then it might help her stay calm for the remainder of the trip.

“Yes- look how handsome he is in that hat!” Josephine replied. “And there’s Monty!”

“And our parents,” Klaus added, pointing to the man wearing glasses and the dark-haired woman who stood in the middle of the picture, next to the man whose face was angled away from the camera.

“Yes,” Josephine said. “Your parents were truly brave and noble people- I miss them terribly.”

“We miss them too,” Klaus replied. “But we do still have questions about them. They never told us about you, or Uncle Monty, or anything.”

“We’re starting to realise that there’s a lot of things they never told us about,” Violet added.

“The thing is, Baudelaires, your parents wanted to raise you in a quiet world. They wanted to keep you safe, far away from the fiery injustices that were threatening all of us.”

“It didn’t work, though,” Klaus pointed out.

“No, no, it didn’t,” Josephine replied. “Not long after this photograph was taken, your parents and I had to make a vastly frightening decision. I remember that day so well, Klaus. Your mother had just wrestled one of our enemies to the ground, when she turned to me and said…”

Unfortunately, the Baudelaires never got to hear what their mother had said to their guardian all those years ago. Because no sooner had Aunt Josephine trailed off, than she’d started repeating the words “Uh-oh” yet again.

“What’s the problem now?” Violet asked.

“Uh-oh,” Josephine said. “And I mean it this time- we are now entering the territory of the Lachrymose Leeches.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, my poor Ike! He always loved shredded beef tamales, and they ended up sealing his doom!”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Klaus said, reassuringly. “You said that the leeches were usually harmless, remember?”

“Unless you have recently eaten,” she pointed out.

“But we haven’t eaten anything since those peppermints at the Anxious Clown,” Klaus replied. “That was brunch, and it’s almost morning now.”

“So we should be alright,” Violet said. “Unless… you didn’t eat anything recently, did you, Aunt Josephine?”

Josephine was silent for a moment before responding. “I ate a banana just before you arrived,” she admitted.

“Okay, that’s not great,” Klaus replied. “But still, I’m sure we don’t have anything to worry about. Leeches are very small animals. I mean, if we were in the water, then we might have a problem, but I doubt they’d attack a sailboat. For all we know, Hurricane Herman might even have scared them out of their territory.” Just then, he spotted several small ripples in the otherwise still water. “Uh-oh.”

The leeches started to tap against the side of the boat, but other than that they didn’t seem to be doing anything bad. In fact, they seemed to have realised that there wasn’t any actual food here, and they had made a mistake in coming over.

“We’re perfectly safe, see?” Klaus said. “Look, they’re leaving!”

And sure enough, the leeches did seem to be swimming far away from the boat. However, when they had reached a considerable distance, they immediately turned around and came rushing back to the boat, hitting it in the side with a loud crashing sound.

“Shit!” Klaus exclaimed. “Okay, we’re gonna need to sail much, much faster, or this boat will be in pieces in no time!”

“But sailing relies on wind!” Violet replied. “We can’t make the wind go any faster!”

“Please don’t throw me overboard!” Aunt Josephine screamed, clinging to the mast of the boat for dear life. “I’m too frightened!”

“Nobody’s gonna throw you overboard!” Violet replied.

“Tey,” Sunny muttered, by which she meant, _Nah, you’d have to do something really bad before we’d consider that._

“Well, rowing’s not gonna help,” Violet said, holding up a severely chewed-up oar.

“We’re well past that point anyway,” Klaus pointed out. “This boat’s sinking!”

“We need to get help,” Violet replied.

“How are we gonna get help? We’re in the middle of a lake!”

“We’ll be fine, we just need a signal!” Violet said. Then she sat down, tightened her hair ribbon and closed her eyes.

“That’s right, dear!” Josephine said. “Just close your eyes- that’s what I do when I’m afraid, it always makes me feel better to block out the fear. In fact, let’s all close our eyes, and block out this scary scene!”

“Violet’s not blocking out anything!” Klaus said, shaking his head. “That’s how she concentrates!” Finally, Violet opened her eyes.

“Fire alarms!” she said.

“What?” Klaus asked, confused.

“Fire alarms!” she repeated.

“Oh, please don’t say any more scary things! I’m frightened enough!”

“Fire alarms are an excellent way to signal for assistance. We need noise, and we need light. We need to start a fire.”

“But won’t that get us in more danger?” Klaus asked.

“If we start a fire for light, and hit the bucket for noise, then we can attract attention.” She frowned. “Of course, it’ll be hard to start a fire, when everything here is… wet from the storm.” She turned to Aunt Josephine. “Aunt Josephine, I need your scarf.”

“No!” Josephine protested. “I need it more! I need it to protect my neck!” Violet groaned.

“I don’t have time to argue with you! I’m trying to save each of out lives!”

“The expression is _saving all of our lives,_ not _saving each of our-”_ Before she could finish, Violet snatched her scarf away.

“Sit down!” she snapped. Then she wrapped the scarf around a small metal rod, and turned her attention to Klaus. “Okay, how do we light this?”

“Well, there’s friction, but that requires technique, patience and dry conditions.”

“There has to be another way!”

“There’s always the scientific principle of the divergence and refraction of light,” Klaus suggested, picking up a pair of binoculars from the floor of the boat.

“The scientific principle of the divergence and refraction of light?” Violet asked.

“You know, when horrible people use a magnifying glass to burn ants,” Klaus explained.

“Olaf used to do that,” Josephine said, which did not come as a shock to Klaus or his sisters.

“Theoretically, if I can catch enough light from the lighthouse beam,” Klaus said, holding the binoculars close to the scarf.

“That seems unlikely,” Violet said. “But it’s worth a try- just do your best.”

“It doesn’t matter if I do my best, what matters is what happens.” The beam of the lighthouse swept over them again, and Klaus tried his best to angle the binoculars so that they caught the light. “It’s not gonna work! The angle’s wrong!”

“The light just needs to refract off of something else in order to reach us!”

“Reflect off what? There’s nothing else here! We’re all alone!”

They weren’t alone, though, even if it seemed as though they were. Right at that moment, a plane was flying over Lake Lachrymose, bound on its own journey. While it was impossible for any of the people in the sailboat to know who would be flying a plane so soon after a hurricane- just as it was impossible for either of the people in the plane to know why the Baudelaires were out on the lake- it was still a somewhat lucky coincidence, one of very few that the Baudelaires encountered in their long, miserable story. Just as one of the people in the plane looked down at the sailboat with their spyglass, the lighthouse beam swept over the boat again, the light refracted and Aunt Josephine’s scarf finally caught fire.

“We’ve done it!” Violet exclaimed. Klaus looked around, looking for the source of the other light beam. He looked up, and spotted the plane, which was still flying overhead.

“There’s a plane!” he shouted.

Then they lowered the sail, and started trying to catch the attention of the people in the plane, in the hopes that they would be able to help. Klaus banged on the pot, while Violet waved the stick with the burning scarf attached to it back and forth, while Aunt Josephine screamed for help and Sunny waved her arms around.

Sadly, though, the plane flew away and soon disappeared from sight. However, it seemed that help was about to come from another source, as just then, a large ferry drew up beside the sailboat. Quickly, Klaus, Violet, Sunny and Josephine hopped on board the ferry- just as their little sailboat finally gave up the ghost- a phrase which here means, the leeches overtook it, and it disappeared beneath the waves of Lake Lachrymose.

“We’re saved!” Aunt Josephine exclaimed. “What a relief, we’re safe now!” She clasped her hands together and smiled brightly at the three children. “We’re alright now, children, we’re alright!”

Together, they walked up the iron stairway that led them up to the deck of the ferry, where a tall man in a long, dark blue coat stood with his back to them.

“Oh, we don’t know how to thank you!” Josephine said. Then the man turned around, revealing his eyepatch, covering one of his shiny, shiny eyes, and the bright body of his dæmon, who appeared to have hidden herself in his coat to increase the dramatic shock of the reveal.

“I can think of a way,” said Count Olaf.

“Oh, dear,” Aunt Josephine said.

Coming up from behind them, the Hook-Handed Man grabbed the Baudelaires, keeping one arm around Violet and one arm around Klaus, so they couldn’t escape, while his crocodile-dæmon stayed on the floor, snapping her jaws at them and flicking her long tail, like she was warning them not to try anything.

“You can stop faking your death and running away and rescuing each other and making me ferry around this godforsaken lake searching for you,” Olaf said, glaring at Josephine and the children.

“Parenting is exhausting,” chipped in the Henchperson. Klaus glared at them- they must’ve told Olaf exactly what they’d seen him do earlier, and that had led Olaf straight to them.

“You’re not our parent, and you never will be!” he snapped.

“On the contrary, Mr. Poe is putting the finishing touches on your adoption papers at this very moment. In a few hours, you will be Violet, Klaus and Sunny Sham!”

“Neihab!” Sunny shrieked, by which she meant, _I’m Sunny Baudelaire, and I will always be Sunny Baudelaire unless I decide for myself to legally change my name!_

“When we explain that you forced Aunt Josephine to write that note, Mr. Poe will tear those adoption papers into a thousand pieces!” Violet said.

“And who is Mr. Poe going to believe? The owner of a respectable lakeside rental agency, or three runaway pipsqueaks who go around stealing boats?”

“We only stole that boat to retrieve Aunt Josephine from her hiding spot so that she could tell everybody about your terrible plan!” Violet protested.

“Is this true?” Olaf asked, turning to glare at Aunt Josephine, who, to her credit, didn’t crumble straight away under the intensity of his rage. “You were going to betray me?” Josephine nodded. “After all the years we spent together? After all of those picnics by the shore? After all of those shredded beef tamales I served to your husband? After all the secrets we had shared?”

“Yes!” Josephine said. Arthur flew up to sit on her arm- and though she didn’t have her hawking glove any more, and even though Arthur’s claws looked like they had torn through the fabric of her cardigan, she didn’t seem bothered by his presence. Dimly, Klaus was aware that this was the first time he’d actually seen his guardian’s dæmon fly. “I was going to betray you, and these three children gave me the courage to do so! Ever since their parents were killed, they have been so fierce and formidable, again and again escaping from your clutches. And what have I done all these years? Nothing but hide in my house. Well, enough of that. My house can topple off a cliff for all I care!”

Sunny looked up at Klaus, who shook his head. “We’ll tell her later,” he said.

“I am ready to be fierce and formidable again myself, and to face you, Count Olaf! I have had enough of your schemes! I have had enough of your plots! I have had enough of your greed and your betrayal. Listen to me, Olaf, you villain, you wretch, you vastly untalented actor!” She paused, to catch her breath. “I'm going to tell you something I should've told you a long time ago!”

“And what might that be?” Olaf asked.

“It's _have!”_

“What?”

“You said, _After all the secrets we had shared._ You should have said, _After all the secrets we have shared._ You made a serious grammatical error!”

Had the situation been a bit less tense, Klaus might have laughed at that. There were a lot of things that could be said about Josephine Anwhistle, but you could never deny her ability to spy and correct a grammatical mistake in any conversation, no matter what the mistake was or how relevant it was to the actual conversation.

“Let me make sure I understand,” Olaf said, starting to walk towards a gap in the railings, forcing Josephine to back away from him. “You would not say, _Josephine Anwhistle had been thrown overboard to the leeches,_ because that would be incorrect. But if you said, _Josephine Anwhistle has been thrown overboard to the leeches,_ you would be all right with that?”

Klaus looked from Olaf to his guardian, realising where he was going with this. He wanted to do something to stop it, to reach out and pull Josephine away from the gap or shove Olaf aside, anything. But aside from the fact that he was being held in place by one of Olaf’s accomplices, he felt frozen in place, powerless to do anything but watch.

“Yes,” Josephine said. Then she frowned, seeming to register what Olaf had just said. “I mean, no. I mean…” she trailed off.

“I think I finally understand the lesson,” Olaf said, and then he pushed Aunt Josephine overboard.

“Aunt Josephine!” Violet screamed.

“Aunt Josephine!” Klaus echoed. Lizzie changed from an owl to a fish, leaping into the water to search for their guardian. To his surprise, the hook-handed man’s crocodile-dæmon jumped in as well, though the man tried to stop her- nearly stepping on her tail in an effort to do so.

“This does seem a bit…” the henchperson began.

“Let’s get back to Damocles Dock,” Olaf said, cutting them off. “Our work here is done.”

He turned his attention to where the hook-handed man and the Baudelaires were standing. “Grab your dæmon and let’s get out of here,” he said, not even noticing that Lizzie had gone overboard too.

While all this had been going on, Arthur was hovering over the water, flapping his wings desperately, like he was trapped underneath the lake too. At first, he had been calling Josephine’s name, too, but now he seemed to be out of words, and left with only shrieks and cries instead. Klaus squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch. He had to keep taking very slow, deep breaths, both to stave off his own panic and to cope with the rare experience of Lizzie being under the water. She scarcely ever took on any form that wasn’t a land animal, a bird or a flying insect, so this was strange for both of them.

When it seemed like he couldn’t take any more of Arthur’s shrieking, it stopped, very suddenly. Klaus’s eyes snapped open, just in time to see Arthur explode into a cloud of gold dust. Aunt Josephine was dead.

Lizzie broke out of the water then, back in her owl form, and the hook-handed man’s dæmon followed a few seconds later, something light purple caught in her jaws.

“Let’s go,” Olaf repeated, once both dæmons were back on board the ferry.

“Josephine,” Klaus breathed, unable to believe that he and his sisters had lost another guardian.

“Oh, Josephine Schmosephine,” Olaf snapped. “She’s dead now, we don’t need to worry about her anymore.” Without another word, he started to steer the ferry back towards the shore.

Klaus knew, of course, that one way to demonstrate a lack of interest or care about something was to say the word, and then repeat id with the letters s- c- h- m replacing the real first letters. So, if one didn’t care about truth and justice, for instance, then they might say _truth schmuth,_ or _justice schmustice._

However, as Count Olaf steered the Baudelaire orphans away from the Lachrymose Leeches, their feelings about Aunt Josephine were far more complicated. She had given them a home, even if it was cold and not hurricane-proof. She had tried to teach them, even if it wasn't what they wanted to learn. And like the Baudelaires, she had experienced great loss. And while that doesn't make a good guardian, it didn't make her a bad person. For this reason, the Baudelaires did not think, _Josephine, Schmosephine._ They thought... _Aunt Josephine tried her best, and we’ll miss her._

When they reached Damocles Dock, the Baudelaires were still somewhat in a state of shock. What they really needed was time and space to process everything that they had been through. Instead, however, they spotted Mr. Poe waiting for them on the docks, and knew that they still had one more battle to fight before they could be safe.

“Come on, let’s go,” snapped the hook-handed man.

At some point on their journey back, he had passed Klaus the thing that his dæmon had retrieved from the lake- a torn piece of Josephine’s cardigan- which only made Klaus more confused.

“Look,” Violet said, taking Klaus out of his head. “It’s Lucky Smells Lumbermill.” Sure enough, when he followed her gaze, Klaus spied two tall chimneys poking up out of the line of trees on the horizon.

“Aunt Josephine said it wasn’t far,” he replied.

Once they were off the boat, Mr. Poe gave them a disappointed frown and a shake of his head.

“What am I supposed to do with you? You said you were going to go home and rest, but instead you steal a sailboat and push Josephine's house down a hill?”

Klaus wanted to ask Mr. Poe if he was aware of how ridiculous it was to blame three children for pushing a giant house off a cliff, rather than assuming that the hurricane had caused the house to fall, but decided that this probably wasn’t the time.

“I missed the pre-hurricane discount tickets and had to spend the night in a bed and breakfast that uses powdered eggs!” Poe continued. “I wouldn't be surprised if Captain Sham was no longer interested in serving as your guardian, even though I filled out these forms in triplicate while he boated around Lake Lachrymose looking for you on a hunch!”

“Well, I'll admit the children's behaviour did make me have second thoughts,” Olaf said. “But then I also had third thoughts, which are how empty my wallet and my heart are. I truly think that the Baudelaires can be an enormous, enormous fortune in my life. And so... as I used to say to my dearest friend, the late Josephine what's-her-name…” he trailed off, then turned to the children. “Get in the car.”

“We're not going anywhere with you!” Klaus snapped, then turned to the banker. “Mr. Poe, this man is really Count Olaf in disguise- he murdered Aunt Josephine in cold blood.”

“Klaus, we've been through this!” Poe replied. “There's absolutely nothing at this point that will convince me that this man is actually Count Olaf. And you have no evidence to support these wild accusations, and I cannot, on behalf of Mulctuary Money Management, merely take the word of a single child.”

“You don't have to take the word of a single child,” Violet pointed out. “You can take the word of all three of us.”

“Uh, actually, it's more like two- the baby doesn't really count,” Olaf remarked.

That seemed to be the last straw for Sunny, who launched into action as soon as Olaf’s dismissive words left his mouth. While Violet and Klaus tried to convince Poe of Olaf’s true identity, Sunny did what she did best- she used her teeth to solve the problem. Before either of her siblings could stop her, she bit Olaf’s peg leg, causing it to split apart and reveal his real leg- and the tattoo of an eye on his ankle.

“My leg!” Olaf exclaimed. “My leg has grown back! It’s amazing, it’s incredible, it’s a medical miracle!”

“Oh, come now, that won't work!” Poe countered. “Even a child can see that peg leg was false.”

“A child did see that the peg leg was false,” Violet pointed out. “Three children, in fact.”

“But you didn't listen,” Klaus said. “You never listen!”

“Well, perhaps the peg leg was false. But I have never seen this tattoo in my life,” Olaf tried again.

“Oh, come now, that won't work either! You tried to hide the tattoo with the peg leg.”

“Maybe the tattoo is real,” Olaf conceded. “But I am not this Count Olaf person- my name is Captain Sham, it says so on my business cards!”

As the two adults went back and forth, Klaus’s attention started to drift elsewhere. Spying a truck that was being loaded up by a man in a green uniform, he grabbed Violet’s arm.

“Look, Lucky Smells Lumbermill,” he said, pointing to the name printed on the side of truck and on the back of the man’s uniform.

“Let’s go,” Violet replied, and while Mr. Poe was distracted- and the man in the uniform wasn’t looking- the three children ran over to the truck and climbed into the back.

* * *

“Can… Can I see the piece of Josephine’s cardigan?” Violet asked, once they were on their way through the Finite Forest. Klaus nodded, and handed it to her.

While she examined it, Klaus examined the photo once again. Were they doing the right thing, going to this place that his parents had visited so many years ago? Would they be able to learn anything there, and get any answers to the questions that were plaguing all three of them?

“What's that thing Haruki Murakami said?” Violet asked, handing the scrap to Sunny, who tucked it into the pocket of her little raincoat.

“ _When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in."_ Klaus quoted.

“Before that part.”

 _"You won't even be sure, in fact… whether the storm is really over."_ He looked at the picture again. “Do you think we made the right choice?” he asked.

“Doesn't matter if we made the right choice. What matters is what happens,” Violet said, simply.

Klaus looked out at the trees, and thought about what his sister had said. She was right- whether or not they’d made the right choice in running away from Mr. Poe, it hardly mattered. They’d done it now, and they’d have to live with that choice, wherever it led them. He also knew that Murakami had been right, too- even if Hurricane Herman was behind them, that did not mean that the storm- or their misfortunes- was really over.


	13. Violet

Chapter Thirteen: Violet

“I hope that Mr. Poe isn’t too worried about us,” Violet said.

It had been hours since she and her siblings had hopped up into the bed of this truck, which was driving through the Finite Forest on its way to the Lucky Smells Lumbermill in Paltryville, and leaving behind Mr. Poe, the banker who had been placed in charge of their affairs following the deaths of their parents. Violet had concluded that Mr. Poe probably meant well most of the time. Unfortunately, though, those good intentions didn’t really mean very much when they didn’t translate into good actions, or at least a good, helpful attitude.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Klaus said. “For all we know, he’d have just ended up bringing us here anyway. Maybe we have some other obscure relative in Paltryville, and we’d have been brought here to live with them.”

“Good point,” Violet replied. “It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.”

Sunny opened her mouth to speak, when the driver of the truck looked back and spotted them.

“What the gum?” he asked, then stopped the truck with a jolt. He climbed out of the truck, and stalked round to the back, his pine marten-dæmon looking decidedly irritated. Then he yanked open the door at the back. “Get out, hitch-hikers!” he shouted. Quickly, the three Baudelaires climbed out of the trunk. “And get a real job!” he shouted, as he drove away.

“Great,” Klaus muttered. “Now what do we do?”

“We walk,” Violet replied. Sunny groaned in irritation. “It’s okay, Sunny, I’ll carry you,” Violet said, holding her tightly.

Together, the three Baudelaires started to walk the rest of the way to Paltryville. Lizzie and Oliver changed into foxes, and walked beside them, while Prospero perched on Violet’s shoulder. He’d been curled up in the pocket of her red raincoat for most of the time that she’d been wearing it, but now that they were away from Lake Lachrymose, he had now come out to resume his usual spot on her shoulder.

Finally, it looked as though they were at the end of the road. The town looked much closer, and while there was something strangely grey about it, at least once they reached it their journey would be over.

“We’re almost out of the woods,” Violet said, pointing at the approaching buildings.

Even as she said that, though, Violet wondered if that was entirely accurate. It was certainly true that they were almost out of the forest, but it seemed too early to know for sure whether or not they were out of the woods- because that meant that they had returned to safety, away from menace and disturbing revelations. Violet wanted to believe that in Paltryville, they would find that safety, but after everything that she and her siblings had been through, she also didn’t want to get her hopes up.

As soon as they reached the town, Violet realised why exactly it had looked so grey. The town had been burned down, and everything was covered in a thin layer of ash.

“There’s nothing here,” Klaus observed. “Everything’s gone.”

“Not everything,” Violet pointed out, gesturing towards a tall wall made entirely of wooden logs, which had been stripped of bark. The top of each log had been filed into a spike, and at the centre of the wall there was a large gate, with _Lucky Smells Lumbermill_ stamped on it. “Maybe this is where all the clues lead us. The strange photographs at Aunt Josephine’s...”

“The secret message and the strange statue lady at Uncle Monty’s…” Klaus continued.

“The only thing standing between us and all our parents’ secrets…”

“Is an enormous wooden wall,” Klaus finished. “What if we don’t like what we find? Knowing can be a terrible thing,” he said.

“But isn’t it worse to not know?” Violet replied. She looked up at the wall, pulling out one of her ribbons. She only had four left, a purple one, a black one, an orange one and a green one- the rest had been lost with Josephine’s house. She’d pulled out her green ribbon, and used it to tie up her hair. “I bet I could invent a catapult to get us over.”

“I’ve read about walls,” Klaus said. “The Wall of Jericho, the Great Wall of China, Pink Floyd’s _The Wall_ \- although Mother wouldn’t let me watch that one.”

“All I need is a lever, a counterweight and a very large spoon.”

Violet was about to start looking for materials, when she heard the gate creaking open. While she and Klaus had been trying to work out what to do about the wall, Sunny had taken a more direct approach, crawling over to the gate and pushing it open. Violet walked over to her and picked her up, which was when she spotted a sign that was on the gate: _Trespassers Will Be Put To Work._

“Does this make us trespassers?” Klaus asked, pointing at the sign.

“We’re children,” Violet replied.

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive,” Klaus pointed out.

“It’ll be okay. If we get caught, we’ll just say we were on a school trip or something. Come on.” Violet led the way into the mill grounds, which were just as dull and grey as the rest of the town.

“So, what exactly is it that we’re looking for?” Klaus asked.

“It’s like what Father used to say about fine art,” Violet replied. “We’ll know it when we see it.”

At that moment, Violet and Klaus looked up, and spotted another building which had been spared in whatever fire had destroyed the town. At a glance, the building did not seem too out of the ordinary- until the children saw the shape of the large window on the top floor, though. It resembled the same strange, stylised eye that Count Olaf had tattooed on his ankle- the same eye that seemed to have been watching the Baudelaires since their series of unfortunate events had began.

“Does this mean we’re in the right place?” Klaus asked. “Or the very, very wrong one?”

“It could just be a coincidence,” Violet suggested.

“Or it could be Count Olaf. Maybe we should leave,” Klaus replied.

They turned to walk out of the grounds, and walked straight into somebody. Specifically, they walked into a man with brown hair and a suit the light green colour of freshly cut boards, whose dæmon was a brown beaver.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I thought you might be trespassers, but now I see that you’re just children.”

“They’re not mutually-” Klaus began.

“We’re on a school trip,” Violet said, smiling politely at the man.

“Right, because we’re schoolchildren,” Klaus replied.

“Well, this lumbermill is hardly a safe place for children,” the man said. “And I should know, I run it. My name’s Charles, and this is Lucy,” he said, pointing to his dæmon, who gave the children a bucktoothed smile and a little wave.

“I’m Violet Baudelaire, and these are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny. And these are Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver,” Violet replied.

“Do you recognise any of these people?” Klaus asked, holding out the group photo they’d found at Aunt Josephine’s house. Charles frowned down at it.

“I think you’d better come and see my partner,” he said.

“So, do you know what happened to this town?” Violet asked, as they walked to one of the mill’s main buildings.

“Well, it’s a bit of a sad story,” Charles began. “Paltryville used to be booming- we had a world food market, two hot yoga studios, the works. There was even talk of building a water park! The name Paltryville was actually a misnomer. And then one day, the whole town burned down in a terrible fire. Luckily, the lumbermill survived, and that building over there, the one with the eye-shaped window, which actually belongs to…” He trailed off, as they arrived outside the main building. “Here we are!”

He led them through the building, and to the door of an office. Opening the door, they found a large room, with a large desk and a fireplace. Another man stood in front of the fireplace- and while Violet and her siblings could see that he was also wearing a suit the colour of new boards- though his suit was more light brown than light green- and they could see that his dæmon was a dark grey rat which sat on the desk, they could not see what he actually looked like. His head was blocked out by a large cloud of grey smoke, which was coming from a cigar in his hand.

“Children, I’d like you to meet…” Charles began.

“Call me Sir,” the man interrupted. “Everybody does, cause I tell ‘em to. I’m the boss, which means everyone has to do what I say, even my partner here.”He pointed to Charles with his free hand.

“Doesn’t partner mean equal?” Klaus asked.

“Harold,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Um, actually in this case I’m pretty sure it means they’re gay, Klaus._

Violet suspected she was right. While it was true that the term “partner” commonly referred to business partners, Violet was aware that this wasn’t the only definition of the word, and that Sunny’s theory was probably not an inaccurate one, based on the way that Charles had started smiling once they came into the office, and the way that Lucy made her way over to the desk, like she wanted to be near the little rat-dæmon that sat on it.

“What it means is that I do all the work, and he irons my clothes,” Sir explained.

“I also cook your omelettes,” Charles pointed out. “Now, I found these poor dears wandering around outside, unsupervised.”

“Well, you know what we do with trespassers, don’t you, Charles?”

“But they’re only children!” Charles exclaimed. “I thought we could take them in, give them a loving, normative home!”

“Nonsense!” Sir snapped. “I believe you should treat children like grown-ups. We’ll put ‘em to work in the mill! It’ll teach them responsibility, it’ll teach them the value of hard work, and it’ll teach them how to make flat wooden boards out of trees!”

“But, Sir!” Charles protested.

“Don’t argue with me, we’re partners!”

“If we work in the mill,” Violet said, “does that mean we get to stay here?”

“This one gets it!” Sir said, waving his cigar in Violet’s direction. The cloud of smoke moved around a little bit, but not enough to allow the children to see Sir’s face. “In this economy, children are lucky to have a job at all. What’s your name, young lady?”

“Violet Baudelaire,” Violet replied.

“A Baudelaire?” Sir asked. It sounded as though he were frowning, but honestly, it was hard to tell for certain through all of the smoke.

“Wait, do you… Do you know that name?” Violet asked.

“Of course I do!” Sir exclaimed. “Every man, woman and child in Paltryville knows the name Baudelaire.”

“Why?” Violet asked. “Did you know our parents?”

“Who are the other people in this photograph?” Klaus asked, holding it out.

“Ack?” Sunny asked, by which she meant, _How are you able to see anything past that cloud of smoke?_

“Well, I don’t know what ack means, but if you want to know about your parents, they-” Sir cut himself off, breaking into a loud coughing fit.

“Poe,” Sunny muttered, by which she meant, _Great, another cougher- that’s just what we need._

“Every time we’re about to get some answers, seriously?” Klaus asked, shaking his head.

“It’s these cigars,” Sir explained, when he was finished. “I hate the things, but I can’t quit smoking ‘em, I’m the boss! Now, where was I? Oh, yeah- there’s a reason that this town will never forget your parents.” He paused, as if for dramatic effect. “They’re the ones that burned it down.”

“Our… our parents did what?” Violet asked.

“I’m an important man- don’t make me repeat myself!” Sir snapped. “They burned down the town!” He paused again, the cloud of smoke shifting from side to side as if he were looking around the room. “They’re… they’re not anywhere nearby, are they?”

“They died,” Violet replied. “They died in a fire.”

“Good!” Sir said. “What goes around, comes around. It’s a terrible thing, starting a fire!”

Violet stared at him, unable to believe what she was hearing. Surely he was wrong, surely her parents would never have done something so horrible. This couldn’t really be happening, this-

“Why are you still standing here?” Sir snapped, breaking her out of her thoughts. “You got work to do in the morning!”

* * *

With heavy hearts, the Baudelaires walked out of Sir’s office, and made their way to the lumbermill dormitory. As they sat at the long table in the dorm, eating a bowl of lumpy, chewy casserole each, they thought about what they had been told, and tried not to listen to the gossip of their new co-workers. Most of the workers seemed to be very quiet, and both they and their dæmons seemed to be very flat, almost lifeless. However, three of them were sitting a few seats away from the children, and were deep in a discussion about them.

“Did you hear about the new recruits?” one worker hissed. “They’re _Baudelaires,_ ” she added, like it was a dirty word.

“I hear their folks were arsonists,” another worker added.

“I hear thy checked out library books and never returned them.”

“I hear they drank blood from the skulls of chupacabras,” the first worker said.

“You mean they drank from baby skulls like chupacabras?” countered one of her co-workers.

“I know what I heard,” she said.

“This is ridiculous!” Violet said, having had enough of listening to this. “Did any of you actually meet our parents?”

“I don’t think so,” the first worker said. “I think Jimmy might have, though.”

“I never met those arsonists, and I’m glad I didn’t!” Jimmy protested. “Why would I wanna associate with people like that?”

“Do any of you actually know what happened in this town?” Klaus asked.

“Not really,” Jimmy admitted. “We’re not supposed to talk about that.”

“Then you shouldn’t be spreading rumours,” Violet replied.

“I never believed all those rumours anyway,” a new voice said. Violet looked up, and saw a rather jolly-looking man in a dusty green uniform. His dæmon was a tern, and he was smiling brightly at the three children. “So, where are your parents now?” he asked, taking a seat next to them on the bench.

“We’re orphans,” Klaus explained.

“Well, that’s not ideal,” the man replied. “Although, look on the bright side! You’ve got no rules, no curfews, you can do what you want!”

“Lights out, in two seconds,” Sir’s voice called out, over the intercom.

“It’s a bit early for lights out, isn’t it?” Klaus asked.

“Maybe, but it means we get more time for dreaming, which is great!” He laughed. “My name’s Phil, and this is Sylvia! We’re very excited to work with you three!”

“Thank you,” Violet said. “My name’s Violet, and these are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny. And these are Prospero, Lizzie and Oliver.”

“It’s great to meet you,” Phil said. “Listen, I know that things might seem dark, but it’s important to look on the bright side. So it seems that your parents were arsonists- you don’t have to be like them, though! You can be whatever you wanna be!”

Based on what Phil had told them so far, Violet and her siblings could tell that their new co-worker was an optimist- which meant that he was a person whose outlook on life was generally positive, even if their actual situation was decidedly not. For instance, if an optimist were to have their right arm bitten off by an alligator, they might say, _Oh boy, half-price manicures for life!_ While a more normal response might be, _Ah, my arm!_

“Who wants a welcome packet?” Phil asked, handing the Baudelaires a package each.

Each package contained a pair of the same green overalls that Phil was wearing, a map of the mill, and various other documents which were supposed to make the children feel ready to start their new job tomorrow. Still, while the actual documents themselves contained little that would reassure the Baudelaires, that did not stop them from attempting some of their own optimism.

“Look,” Violet said, pointing to something on the map. “The mill has a library. Maybe you can research what happened here and clear our parents’ names.”

“Look,” Klaus replied, pointing to something else. “The mill also has machines. Maybe you could invent a way of making wooden planks out of trees faster.”

Violet wasn’t really sure she liked the sound of that idea, but she supposed that it was better than nothing. Maybe it would be nice to be able to put her skills with inventing and mechanics to use- maybe she should take advantage of it.

“What about the building with the eye-shaped window?” she asked, pointing to the rectangle on the map which marked where the building was located.

“It says that it’s an optimist’s office,” Klaus replied. “Sorry, I meant an optometrist’s office. Father always said that he didn’t trust either.”

“But what does an optometrist’s office have to do with Count Olaf?” Violet asked. She was sure that the building had to have something to do with Count Olaf, it was way too big a coincidence for it to be otherwise.

“Maybe it’s a coincidence,” Klaus replied. “Maybe Phil’s right- we should try to look on the bright side. This mill may be miserable, but since we’ve arrived here, we’ve not seen Count Olaf once, or any of his accomplices.”

“Maybe you’re right, maybe that eye window really is a coincidence. Maybe we’ve finally found somewhere Count Olaf and his cronies can’t find us.”

* * *

Later, when the children had settled into their bunk bed, Violet found that she couldn’t sleep- there was too much on her mind.

“Is Sunny asleep?” Klaus asked. Violet smiled- sometimes, when you couldn’t get to sleep, being able to talk to someone else who was having the same problem was strangely comforting.

“She’s dreaming about biting something,” she replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I keep thinking about what Sir said, about our parents. You don’t think it could be true, do you?”

“Of course not,” Violet said.

“Then you agree what we have to do.”

“Of course,” she said. “We have to get out of here.”

“We have to clear their names,” Klaus said, at the same time.

“Wait, what?” Violet asked.

“If we clear their names, maybe we can finally get some answers.”

“Maybe they wouldn’t want us here, much less investigating these supposed crimes on their behalf.”

“Then they shouldn’t have left us alone!”

“You know that’s not what they did,” Violet said.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus said, sighing. “I know it’s not their fault, and I know you’re just trying to be cautious. I guess we’re not seeing eye to eye right now.”

“I wish our parents were here right now,” Violet said.

“I know. I don’t like this place either, but if we stay here, that’s the best way we can find out what they were hiding.”

“The best way to find out would be to ask them,” Violet countered. “But we’ll never be able to do that.”

Finally, Violet drifted off to sleep. For years after that night, she would regret the fact that she hadn’t just grabbed Klaus and Sunny there and then, and ran as far away from Paltryville as they could possibly get. Of course, this sort of thing is easy enough to say in hindsight, when you know the painful events which could have been avoided had you made a different choice. But though Violet was well aware of this fact, it would do little to stop her from regretting the fact that she had chosen to stay at Lucky Smells Lumbermill that night, rather than running away.


	14. Klaus

Chapter Fourteen: Klaus

Morning is an important time of day, because how you begin your morning can often tell you what kind of day you're going to have. If you wake up in a mansion to a butler serving you blueberry pancakes and fresh-squeezed orange juice, then your day will probably be wonderful. If you wake up in a lumbermill to the sound of metal pots banging together, as Klaus was about to discovery, then your day would probably be nothing short of terrible.

“Get up, lumber workers!” boomed a harsh voice over the intercom. “This is your new foreman, Foreman Flacutono! You’ve got a new shipment of logs to turn into flat wooden boards, so get moving!”

“What’s that horrible noise?” Klaus asked, sitting up.

“It sounds like someone’s banging metal pots together,” Violet replied. The three siblings climbed out of bed, and joined their co-workers as they filed out of the dormitory.

“I believe everyone has a good side,” Phil said. “But even I’ll admit that our last foreman was a lot nicer than this guy.”

“What happened to your last foreman?” Violet asked. Phil shrugged.

“He must’ve quit in the middle of the night- it wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.”

By now, they had entered the mill itself- a vast room filled with all manner of big, loud machinery. Sunny clamped her hands over her ears, and Klaus was seriously tempted to do the same.

“Versensiv!” Sunny shrieked, by which she meant, _I really, really don’t like this sound!_

“Hurry up!” Flacutono snapped. “It’s log day!”

“I hate log days,” one worker grumbled.

“Now grab a debarker and start debarking!” Flacutono shouted. “That goes for you too, lumber midgets!”

Klaus looked over, and saw that the foreman was sitting in a booth, with the word _Foreman_ on the door. The door was open, but even so, Klaus couldn’t have described what the foreman actually looked like, because his face was hidden entirely by an enormous gas mask.

“Are you my mummy?” Lizzie whispered, which might have made Klaus laugh, had their situation felt a little less dire.

“I love log days!” Phil exclaimed.

It did not take the Baudelaires long to realise that they did not share their optimistic co-worker’s views on log days. For one thing, the debarkers they had to use were designed for adult use, which made it difficult for Violet and Klaus to use them, and impossible for Sunny to use them at all. Sunny had to make do with using her teeth instead. Not only that, they had not been given any breakfast, and as the morning wore on, they got so hungry that they could barely even lift the debarkers, never mind use them.

Worse than that, though, not only was their work extremely monotonous and boring, as there was nothing else to do but scrape bark off of the logs, the noises from the mill itself were deafening. Klaus had thought that it was bad when he’d first walked into the mill, but it did not take him long to realise that he had severely misjudged how overstimulating an environment this would be.

It was a relief, therefore, when Foreman Flacutono’s voice cut through the noise, and made an announcement.

“Lunchtime, lumber slowpokes!” he shouted.

The Baudelaires went over to join their co-workers, who were sitting in what they assumed was the lunch area. It was an area of the mill which was clear of machinery, and was instead filled with an assortment of benches and chairs, none of which matched.

“I hate log days,” Klaus grumbled, sitting down heavily on one of the benches.

“At least we finally get a break,” Violet replied.

“Lunch break! Five minutes!” barked the foreman.

Though this hardly seemed like an adequate amount of time for a break, Klaus decided not to say anything about it at this stage. He was just glad to be off his feet, to have something to eat and to have all the loud machinery switched off for a little bit. However, when he saw what they were actually being served for lunch, he was a bit less relieved to have a break.

“Gum?” he asked, incredulously. “Gum isn’t lunch- it’s not even a snack!”

“It’s not very filling, but it’s all they’ll let you eat until dinner,” one of the workers explained.

“Can we use our wages to buy some sandwiches?” Violet asked.

“Listen, we’re not paid in wages,” the worker replied. “We’re paid in coupons.”

“I got one for 20% off a shampoo at Ed’s Haircut palace,” another worker said.

“I got a free refill of iced tea,” added the first worker.

“I got _Buy two banjos, get one free_. Of course, I can’t buy any banjos, cause I don’t have any money. I just have coupons.”

“That can’t be legal,” Violet said.

“Well, it’s not like we have a constitution!” Phil said, and laughed, as though the very idea was ridiculous.

“If this mill is so miserable, why don’t you all leave?” Klaus asked.

As if on cue, the workers all stood up, staring blankly ahead. “Lucky Smells is our life,” they all recited. “Lucky Smells is our home.”

“Okay, that’s very, very normal,” Lizzie said.

“We need to find those answers and get out of here, fast,” Klaus said.

* * *

Quickly, the Baudelaires made their way out of the mill, and walked back to the building Charles had taken them to yesterday. The map had said that the mill’s library was in this building, along with Sir’s office, and Klaus hoped that he would be able to find out what the hell was going on here somewhere in the library, since it seemed unlikely he was going to get answers anywhere else.

“According to the map,” Violet explained, “the mill library should be just behind this door.”

Just then, the door to Sir’s office- which was next to the door to the library- swung open. Their guardian/ boss looked the same as he had yesterday, complete with a cloud of smoke covering his face. The only difference was the fact that his dæmon was now hanging onto his arm, creeping closer to his cigar, like she was trying to get a whiff of it, too.

“Zoe, stop that,” he snapped at her, and she promptly scurried up to his shoulder. Then he seemed to notice the Baudelaires. “Trying to get out of log day?” he demanded. Klaus wondered if he was imagining things, or if the cloud of smoke covering his face had gotten a little smaller than it had been yesterday. Not small enough for anyone to know what he looked like, but smaller nevertheless.

“We wanted to visit the library on our lunch break, Sir,” Violet explained.

“Oh, what a lovely idea!” Charles said, emerging from the office with a spatula in one hand and a smile on his face. “I told you having a library would be good for morale,” he added, turning to his partner.

“Nonsense! Lunch breaks are for chewing gum, not sneaking off to libraries- that’s why you only need five minutes.”

“But, Sir…” Klaus began, though he wasn’t sure which part of Sir’s statement to respond to first. Should he start with the gum thing, the five minute lunch break thing, or the fact that they hadn’t been sneaking off anywhere, not really.

“You’re not gonna cause trouble for this mill, are you?”

“Trouble?” Charles exclaimed. “I’m your partner!”

“I’m speaking to the Baudelaires!” Sir snapped, as though that made things any better.

“Dump,” Sunny said simply, by which she meant, _I don’t know much about relationships, but this doesn’t look like a good one!_

“I took a chance on treating you three like grown-ups! Don’t make me regret it. Now, get back to work!”

With that, he dismissed them from the office. Charles ushered them back out into the hall, closing the office doors, Lucy holding onto the spatula for him.

“You’ll have to excuse Sir, he’s been trying to cut down on the smoking, and it’s making him a little crankier than usual.”

“Are you aware he feeds the workers gum and pays them in coupons?” Violet asked.

“Yes, well, I’ve tried to discuss that, but-”

“If you guys are partners, then you should be able to stand up to him!” Klaus pointed out.

“The word partner means lots of things!” Charles replied. “It’s complicated! Look, I know Sir can be prickly, but you have to understand. He had a very terrible childhood.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Violet snapped. “I’m having a very terrible childhood right now.”

* * *

Once they were back in the mill, and back to debarking logs, Klaus tried to work their predicament through in his head. They had to get out of this mill, mystery or no mystery. He looked over to the foreman’s booth. There was something off about him, and the fact that he’d just shown up out of nowhere, a matter of hours after the Baudelaires had arrived. Adding to that, that gas mask meant that nobody could tell what he looked like- meaning that he could be anyone.

“What are you thinking about?” Violet asked eventually.

“It’s the new foreman. Phil said he just showed up last night- what if he’s Count Olaf, and being a foreman is his new disguise?”

“He is cruel like Count Olaf, but Count Olaf runs a horrible theatre company, not a lumbermill!”

“But isn’t it suspicious how we never see his face? And we only ever hear his voice over the loudspeaker?”

“To be fair, the mill is pretty noisy- it’s probably the only way people can hear him!” She sighed. “I know what you’re trying to do!”

“I’m trying to keep us safe!”

“No, you’re trying to find a reason to leave. And we will, I promise, as soon as we clear our parents’ names!”

Klaus nodded, then looked back at the foreman’s booth. Maybe, if he could get close enough, he might be able to spot something that could prove his identity- even if he could just see his dæmon, he hadn’t been able to spot the scarlet salamander earlier, maybe he’d see her now.

“I’m gonna get a new debarker,” he said, then made his way over to the booth.

First, he peered through the grimy windows of the booth. He couldn’t see much in there, just the foreman reading a newspaper, which he assumed was the Daily Punctillio. The foreman closed the newspaper for a moment, which was when Klaus noticed that there was no salamander on his shoulder, as he’d been expecting.

“What are you doing over here, midget?” Flacutono asked, poking his head out of the booth and spying Klaus.

“I… I needed to get a new debarker,” he explained.

“So, the spoiled brat wants a new debarker? Isn’t the old rusty one good enough for him?” He sighed, and pointed an oddly stiff hand in the direction of the debarker dispenser. “They’re over there, rich boy.”

Klaus frowned, looking at the foreman’s strange hand and realising that he’d made a mistake in assuming that it had to be Count Olaf in the booth.

“Wait a minute,” he began- but the foreman didn’t wait a minute.

Quickly, he kicked Klaus’s leg, causing him to fall onto the ground beside the booth, and knocking his glasses off. Then, as though that wasn’t enough, he stepped on the glasses- at least, Klaus assumed he’d done that, based on the cracking sound he heard. Shakily, he got to his feet. Lizzie changed into a cat, picked up the glasses and brought them over. Klaus took them, and put them on.

“Klaus!” Violet exclaimed. “Your glasses!”

She didn’t say anything else- she didn’t need to. Klaus could see exactly what was wrong with them. The lenses were too cracked to really see through, and the legs were so twisted they could barely stay attached to his head, and overall they were hopelessly, hopelessly broken.

“They don’t look that bad,” Phil said.

“The foreman kicked him, and stepped on his glasses!” Violet protested.

“How could I kick him when I’m up in this booth?” the foreman countered. “It was probably karma!”

“Can you see?” Violet asked. Klaus frowned, and took off his broken glasses.

“A little,” he replied.

“He’ll live. Get back to work!” snapped the foreman.

“He can’t work if he can’t see!” Phil protested. “He needs an optometrist. Lucky for you, Klaus, we’ve got a great one right here in what’s left of our town!”

“The building with the eye shaped window?” Klaus asked, skeptically.

“Yeah- Dr. Orwell treats all the workers. You probably saw the coupon in your welcome packet. I’ll bring you over there, and we’ll get your glasses fixed up in no time.”

“I’ll be fine,” Klaus said, seeing the concern on Violet’s face. “Maybe I can find some answers.”

“Maybe I can find some answers, too,” Violet replied.

* * *

Together, Klaus and Phil made their way to Dr. Orwell’s office. Outside the door, Klaus noticed a sign that was shaped like a pair of horn-rimmed eyeglasses.

“In the book The Great Gatsby,” he said, trying to infodump a little to take his mind off his nerves, “there’s a famous sign that’s shaped like a pair of eyeglasses.”

“Does it represent an optometrist?” Phil asked.

“Actually, it represents the eyes of God staring down and judging society as a moral wasteland.”

“It sounds like a fun book,” Phil said, with a smile. “Listen, I know that going to the doctor’s can be scary- but doctors are your friends! Come on, let’s go.”

Klaus sighed. He knew that Phil was wrong, of course, and that doctors weren’t necessarily his friends- no more so than butchers, mail deliverers or refrigerator repair people. So, as he and Phil sat in the waiting room of Dr. Orwell’s office, he was fully aware that despite his co-worker’s optimistic outlook, this optometrist was not necessarily his friend- they were just a person doing a job.

“Klaus Baudelaire?” a woman announced.

Klaus turned to look at her, though he couldn’t really see her. She appeared to have brown hair and a white lab coat, and her dæmon appeared to be a large grey bird, but beyond that it was near impossible for Klaus to make out any more details about what she looked like without his glasses.

“Dr. Orwell?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sorry I kept you waiting, I was on my lunch hour. I see somebody broke their glasses.”

“See? Perfectly friendly!” Phil replied.

Sylvia gave a little chirp- and had Klaus not had so many other things on his mind, he might have thought that something was a little off about that chirp, and how… normal it sounded. Like she was just a normal pet bird, not an extension of Phil’s soul.

“Well, I find that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.”

“Actually, you catch the most flies with manure,” Klaus pointed out.

“Aren’t you smart?” Dr. Orwell said. “It’s just an expression. A fancy way of saying you’re more likely to get what you want by acting in a sweet way, than in a distasteful way, like vinegar. Now, wave goodbye to your friend, and let’s go.”

She led Klaus towards her exam room, which contained a large dentist’s chair, a tall, elegant perch, to which her dæmon went to sit on, and a few bookcases.

“Now, sit in that chair, and we’ll get to work,” Dr. Orwell said. Klaus frowned, but did as she said.

“Is this really necessary to fix my glasses?” he asked.

“An eye exam is standard procedure for all my patients,” she explained. “You look nervous.”

“Father always said that he didn’t trust optometrists,” Klaus replied.

“Well, it sounds like he might have had a bad experience with one,” Orwell speculated. “I wonder who she was, or if she ever practised optometry again… After the heartbreak, and the lawsuit, and the plastic surgery to assume a new identity in a faraway town…”

“What did you say?” Klaus asked, frowning up at her.

“I said, try not to blink.” Orwell then picked up a piece of equipment from a tray, and began shining a light in Klaus’s eyes. “You’re a smart boy. DO you know what bedside manner means?”

“It’s when-” Klaus started to explain.

“It’s when a doctor speaks in a calm and reassuring voice to make sure their patients trust them.” She set down the light. “And how are we feeling, Klaus?”

“Not good,” Klaus replied.

“Because you broke your glasses?” Orwell guessed

“Because if this town. Everyone thinks our parents did something really bad, but they’ve never even met them!”

“Well, I’m not like everyone else,” Orwell said.

“You don’t believe it?” Klaus asked, hopefully.

“I met your parents!” Orwell explained.

Then she tapped a button on the chair, and Klaus felt something clamping down on his wrists and ankles, and covering the top of his head, preventing him from moving.

“Standard procedure for nervous little boys,” she explained. She then pulled a phoropter in front of Klaus’s face, a device that Klaus did recognise from other times he’d been to get his eyes tested. “That’s standard, too,” she added.

She pointed with her cane to a small television, which really didn’t seem far enough away for a worthwhile eye exam. An “A” flashed up on the screen.

“Now focus here, Klaus, and tell me what you see.” She jabbed at the screen with her cane. “An _E_ or an _A?”_ Klaus didn’t respond at first. “An _E_ or an _A?”_ she repeated.

“An _A_ ,” Klaus replied. The image on the screen changed again, so that a “C” now flashed on the screen.

“An _A_ or a _C?”_ Orwell demanded.

“A… a _C_ ,” Klaus said. Another image flashed up, this time depicting Lake Lachrymose.

“A sea, or a lake?” Orwell asked.

“Wait, what?” Klaus asked, but Orwell didn’t respond.

Instead, she continued to show him image after image, which got more and more bizarre. A large black monster… a burnt house… a strange blonde woman in a long red gown… on and on it went, until Klaus’s vision clouded over, and it was like he couldn’t really see anything any more, like there was a cloud of smoke in the room, as if from a terrible fire, and it was sitting in front of his face, blocking out everything else…


	15. Violet

C hapt er Fifteen: Violet

“Come on,” Violet said, once Klaus and Phil had left the mill. Bending down, she picked up Sunny. “Let’s go to the library, and quickly.”

They exited the mill, and made their way over to the building that contained the library and Sir’s office. Quickly, they slipped past the closed door of Sir’s office and into the library, and Violet closed the door as quietly as she could behind them.

“We’d better hurry before the foreman realises that we’re gone,” she said, setting Sunny down on one of the library’s dark green chairs. “Or before Sir realises that we snuck in here,” she added.

Violet turned to examine the books, and it did not take her long to realise that they might have a slight problem. Every single book on the shelves was the same- hundreds of identical copies of The History Of Lucky Smells Lumbermill.

“Who would want so many copies of the same book?” she wondered, pulling one off the shelf.

Flipping the front cover open, the answer became obvious. The book had been written by Sir- though he’d used his actual name, two long strings of vowels and consonants that made it clear why he insisted that everyone just call him Sir. The author’s head shot also didn’t really clear anything up about their current employer/ guardian, since it was just a cloud of smoke with a rat’s tail poking out the bottom, presumably belonging to his dæmon.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she muttered, then set the book down on the table. “Now, whenever Klaus reads a long, difficult book, the first thing he does is read the table of contents.” Quickly, Violet found the table of contents, and scanned down it to find the information she needed. “Here we are, Chapter 12: The Paltryville Fire.” Checking the page number for chapter twelve, she flipped through the book until she found it. “The Baudelaires were unequivocally responsible,” she read out loud, then frowned. “The rest is crossed out!” Quickly, Violet grabbed another copy of the book, then another, then another. Every time, she found the same thing- the information pertaining to the Paltryville fire had been crossed out with thick black marker.

“Useless!” Sunny protested, by which she meant, _This is getting us nowhere! We need a different plan!_

“Or maybe we don’t,” Violet said, looking down at the copy she’d just opened. “This one isn’t crossed out!”

Before she could get a proper look at the page, though, there was the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Shit,” Violet muttered, dropping the book down on the desk. “Pretend I didn’t say that, Sunny,” she whispered, grabbing her baby sister and ducking behind the chair she’d been sitting on.

“Late,” Sunny muttered, by which she meant, _Oh, now you’re worried about me hearing swear words!_

“Sir!” they heard Charles call, before Violet could reply. “Your goat cheese and beef jerky omelette is ready!”

“Ick!” Sunny said, by which she meant, _That does not sound like a good omelette flavour, Charles should really consider something else._

“A different kind of omelette is the least of what Charles should consider,” Violet replied. “Right, we have to get out of here before they catch us.” Just then, Sunny pointed to something- a dictionary that had fallen beside the chair, its front cover open. “Why would you show that to me?” Violet whispered. “You can’t read.”

Just then, Violet saw the quote that had been scrawled on the inside cover of the book, which read, _In every library, there is a single book that can answer the question that burns like a fire in the mind._ However, it was not the quote itself that caught the attention of either sister, it was the handwriting. For when Violet saw the strong left lean of the L's, and the confident closed loop of the O's, she knew who wrote it even before she saw the name on the library checkout card.

“Bertrand Baudelaire,” she read aloud.

“Papa!” Sunny said, beaming at the little card. They were so happy to have this small piece of their father back, they didn’t hear the footsteps in the library, or the ripping of paper, until it was too late.

* * *

That evening, Klaus had still not returned to the lumbermill dormitory. As Violet and Sunny ate their dinner, they kept checking the door of the dorm, hoping that any second now he’d come in and join them.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Phil reassured. “Why don’t you play a game of solitaire to pass the time?”

Finally, just after lights out had been called, Klaus finally walked back into the dormitory.

“Klaus?” Violet said, walking over to him. “You were gone so long, we were worried!”

“Specs?” Sunny asked, by which she meant, _You’re not wearing your glasses- are they still being fixed?_

“What was it like inside the eye doctor’s building?” Violet asked. She frowned- something was wrong. Why wasn’t Klaus saying anything? “Klaus, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Klaus replied, his voice flat and toneless. Just then, Violet noticed Lizzie, who had changed into her owl form and was staring blankly ahead, her round eyes unnervingly wide and glassy. She looked more like a toy owl than a real one- never mind a dæmon.

“What? I’m not Sir, I’m your sister!” Violet protested. “Look, I need to tell you what we found in the library- I think Sir’s deliberately covering up what really happened here, so that if anyone tried to look into it…” she trailed off. “Can you hear anything I’m saying right now?” Klaus was silent. “I guess it’s been a long day- would you like to go to bed?”

“Yes, sir,” Klaus said, then walked over to the bed and lay down on it, his movements stiff and almost robotic, as though he weren’t in control of what he did.

“Klaus, your shoes are still on,” Violet pointed out, but Klaus didn’t take his boots off. Violet sighed, and reached down to pull them off and set them beside the bed. She climbed up into the top bunk, and lay down, holding Sunny close. “I promised our parents I'd always look out for Klaus, but I didn't. He wanted to leave, and I made him stay. Except now he's acting strange. It's all my fault.” She sighed again. “There's no one else to fix it, I have to do it.”

* * *

The next morning, they were woken once again by Foreman Flacutono yelling at them over the intercom.

“Get up, lumber labourers! Lucky Smells has no time for dawdling!” There was a brief pause. “Klaus Baude-Liar, would you like to get out of bed this instant?”

Violet sat up, and saw that Klaus was already on his feet and waiting for his next order.

“Would you like to bring your baby sister?” Flacutono asked, and before Violet could stop him, Klaus had already leaned up and plucked Sunny from the top bunk and walked out of the dormitory.

Quickly, Violet hopped down from her bunk and tugged on her boots, hurrying into the lumbermill after her siblings.

“Lucky boy!” Flacutono continued. “It’s wood chipper day! Would you like to make some mulch?”

Sure enough, following the foreman’s orders, Klaus was standing over by the wood chipper machine, holding Sunny loosely in one arm, and mechanically dropping pieces of wood into the machine with his other hand.

“What are you doing?” Violet demanded, grabbing Sunny and holding her properly. “You’re frightening Sunny, and you’re frightening me! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but snap out of it now, so we can leave!”

“Lucky Smells is our life, Lucky Smells is our home,” Klaus replied, in the same robotic tone that the other workers had used yesterday, when they’d been asked why they didn’t just leave this miserable mill.

“No, it's not!” Violet protested. “A home is where people take care of you, not make you work in a mill for gum. Look, I should've listened to you when you wanted to go. If you're still in there, I want you to know I miss you an inordinate amount.”

“Inordinate?” Phil asked. “What the heck does inordinate mean?”

“It can mean many things- immoderate, irregular- but I think right now, it’s a word which means, you missed me a lot,” Klaus replied. Violet blinked, and smiled at Klaus.

“Klaus, you’re back!”

“Where was I?” Klaus asked, confused. Lizzie blinked a few times, then gave her wings a couple of flaps, as though they’d gotten stiff, and changed into a cat.

“More to the point, where are your shoes?” she asked, nuzzling against Klaus’s legs.

“Okay, I don’t know what is going on here, but we need to-”

“Baude-Liars!” Flacutono interrupted. “Get to the very fancy door right away, you have visitors!”

The children made their way to the exit in a strange mix of emotions. They were relieved to get away from the noisy mill for a bit, curious as to who would be visiting them when nobody even knew they were here apart from the people who were here already, and annoyed that their opportunity to talk about the mill’s mysterious goings-on was going to have to be delayed further now.

“Ah, there you are, children!” Charles said, greeting them at the exit. “Now, I know your time here hasn't been peachy, but your luck is about to change. Because I brought you... this peach!” He pulled a peach out of his pocket, and handed it to Violet with a flourish.

“But who’s visiting us?” Violet asked, as they walked over to a large yellow door.

“Oh, I don't know. But they can't come inside, because that would be trespassing, and then they'd be put to work. But I can tell you they are just on the other side of that very fancy door.”

Together, the three Baudelaires walked up to the door. Violet took Klaus’s hand, and tried to wonder who they were about to meet. She tried to hope that it would be someone pleasant- another long lost relative, come to sweep the children into a life of comfort and safety, or the mysterious lady that they’d last met at their Uncle Monty’s house, who would finally answer all of the questions that burned like fires in their minds, or even Mr. Poe, here to take them away to a new, imperfect home that would at least be better than this mill. But as she was about to learn, though, Violet was wrong. She was only fourteen, and she was wrong.

The yellow door swung open to reveal two women, wearing identical pairs of glasses. However, unlike a certain other pair of identical women who had been troubling Violet and her siblings recently, the similarities between their two visitors began and ended with their glasses. One wore a blue pantsuit, the other wore a pink sweater and skirt. One had brown hair, which she wore in a neat bob, and the other had honey blonde hair, swept up in a slightly complicated arrangement. Perhaps most importantly, though, they had two very different dæmons- a large grey owl, and a small scarlet salamander.

When Violet saw the scarlet salamander, she realised just how wrong she’d been about who was coming to visit- about who had been lurking in the shadows the whole time they’d been at Lucky Smells, just waiting for the right opportunity to come out and terrorise Violet and her siblings all over again. As Count Olaf reached out and placed a new pair of glasses on Klaus’s face, Violet knew that she had been asking the wrong questions- and that things were about to get much, much worse.

“My, my, my, my, my!” Olaf said, smirking at the children. “Aren’t you a lucky boy?”

“Yes sir!” Klaus replied, his eyes glazing over. He smiled blankly at the brunette woman. “Thank you, I can see now!”

“Well, of course you can, I’m an excellent optometrist,” she replied.

“Well, hello there, little girls!” Olaf said, in a high pitched voice. “What are your names?”

“You know our names, and that wig and that lipstick don’t fool us.”

“I don't know what you're talking about! I'm Dr. Orwell's receptionist. My name is Shirley.”

“You mean Shirley Count Olaf?”

“Actually, my last name is St. Ives. It says so on my name tag, see?” Olaf pointed to the name tag on his pink jumper.

“What have you done to Klaus?” Violet snapped, not interested in continuing this stupid debate again.

“You were right, these children are horribly impolite,” the brunette woman said.

“They really should be more careful, Dr. Orwell,” Olaf said. “If they were to do something impolite to me, like, for example, call me by the wrong name, I would have to do something impolite to them, like, for example, tear their hair out with my bare hands.” He smiled, and popped open a small red box. “Cookie?” he asked, cheerfully.

“What’s all this?” Sir asked, walking up to the group, Charles following behind him. “I don’t pay you in gum to stand around gabbing!”

“Oh, hello, children, I hope you’re having a nice visit with the optometrist!” Charles said, smiling at the Baudelaires.

“Charles, you have to listen! This woman is a notorious villain- and technically she’s not a woman.” Violet said.

“Nonsense! Dr. Orwell has provided free eye exams to Lucky Smells employees for years. And there's nothing villainous about free healthcare!” Sir replied. “Clearly she's a woman. Look at her pant suit!”

“I’m surprised at you, Baudelaires- women can be doctors just as men can be receptionists!” Charles added.

“I’m talking about the receptionist!” Violet exclaimed.

“Hi, I’m Cookie. Shirley?” Olaf said. Dr. Orwell shook her head, and nudged him with her cane. “I’m Shirley. Cookie?”

“Don’t mind if I do!” Sir said, reaching into the red box.

“Did you consider our little proposal?” Olaf asked.

“What proposal is that?” Charles asked, sounding confused.

“It doesn’t concern you, Charles,” Sir replied, dismissively.

“What do you mean it doesn’t concern me? I’m your partner!” he protested. Just then, Dr. Orwell walked up to him, her dæmon’s large grey wings flapping curiously.

“I haven’t seen you in my chair,” she said.

“I have excellent vision,” Charles replied.

“Well, vision can change.” She studied him for a second. “Just as I suspected- cloudy and dull.” Then she pulled a copy of the Daily Punctillio from inside her pocket, and held it out. “What colour is this newspaper?”

“Um, black and white?”

“And you’re colour-blind, too- you must come and see me right away.”

“I can’t have a cloudy, dull-eyed, or colour-blind partner!” Sir chipped in. “How would you make my omelettes?” He turned in the direction of Olaf and Dr. Orwell. “Let’s go, ladies- Charles can make us all omelettes before his eye test!”

“What a lovely pair of gentlemen!” Olaf exclaimed. And with that, all four adults walked away in the direction of the main building of the mill.

“What a nice lady,” Klaus said, a faint smile on his face.

“Lucky Smells visiting hours are over!” Flacutono yelled over the intercom. “Get back to work!”

“Yes, sir!” Klaus said, and immediately started walking back towards the mill.

Violet shook her head, and followed her brother back to the mill. Whatever had been done to Klaus, either Olaf or Orwell had managed to do it again, thus erasing whatever small victory the children had managed to have earlier, by temporarily snapping Klaus out of his strange daze.

“We have to work out what happened, and how we can undo it properly,” Violet said, absently plucking a small piece of sawdust from Sunny’s uniform. “Come on.”

They walked into the mill, and found Klaus sitting behind the controls of the stamping machine. Quickly, Violet walked over to the machine. Maybe it wasn’t too late to pull him away from the controls before anything too bad happened? He seemed to be operating the machine properly so far, swinging its large metal arm from a pot of bright red ink to a pile of flat wooden boards, and back again, but still, something could easily go wrong.

“Klaus?” Sunny asked, by which she meant, _What is Klaus doing operating the stamping machine?_

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Violet replied.

“There’s nothing to worry about!” Phil said, walking over to the sisters. “Your brother is smiling, look!”

“Klaus would never operate a machine like that without reading the manual first,” Violet countered.

“Well, he’s operating it perfectly!” Phil replied. “You’re doing great, Klaus!”

“Look, Count Olaf and Dr. Orwell have done something to Klaus. He’s not himself- one minute he’s normal, and the next… he’s like a zombie!”

“You know, I saw a scary movie like that once,” Phil said, nodding.

“Was it _Zombies In The Snow?”_ Violet asked, remembering the movie that she and her siblings had seen with a previous guardian, Uncle Monty.

“What?” Phil asked, shaking his head. “No, it was _Hypnotists In the Forest._ To be honest with you, I didn’t really get it, though I did enjoy the fact that it was in black and white.”

“Did you just say _hypnotists?”_ Violet asked, frowning.

“Cheer up! I’m sure that if you look on the bright side-”

“Look on your right side!” shouted one of the workers.

Just in time, Violet and Phil looked at Klaus, and realised that the stamping machine was completely out of control. The long arm of the machine swung in their direction, and while Violet was able to quickly duck out of the way and avoid being hit, Phil was not so lucky. He was knocked onto the pile of boards, and the large round stamper of the stamping machine came down on one of his legs.

“Oh my God, oh my God!” Phil shouted, attracting the attention of the other workers, who immediately started trying to get the stamper off him.

“You’re gonna be alright, Phil, we’re here for you!” one of the workers said. Violet joined him and two of the others, and attempted to lift the heavy stamper.

“It’s too heavy!” another worker protested. “It won’t budge!”

Just then, Violet noticed that Klaus had hopped down from the controls, like his mission was now accomplished. She frowned, then pulled out her ribbon and tied up her hair. Something must’ve caused the machine to spin out of control- maybe the wires had broken? Yes, that would make sense- damaged or broken wires were usually to blame for machine failure. Which meant that a quick solution would be to use something adhesive to glue the wires back together… like chewing gum.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the square of chewing gum that she’d never eaten yesterday, and ran over to the controls. Quickly, she chewed up the piece of gum, then spat it out and used it to glue two of the broken pieces of wire together. It was perhaps not her nicest solution, but it seemed to do the trick. Finally, she pulled back the main lever, causing the stamper to be lifted up, away from Phil’s leg- or what was left of it. Most of the leg was gone, and seemed to have become part of the stamp on the pile of boards

“Oh, boy!” Phil cried, looking down at the mess. “Half-price pedicures for life! If somebody can help me up to my foot, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get back to work!” Beside him, Sylvia sat on the pile of boards, flapping one of her wings. The other looked fine, but Violet assumed that it was in as much pain as Phil’s leg must be.

“Work?” Violet exclaimed. “You need to go to a hospital!”

“We earned those coupons last month, for 50% off Ahab Memorial!” said one of the workers.

“Yeah- two of us will chip in, and we’ll get your leg fixed up.”

“It can’t be fixed!” Sir said, as he and Charles walked into the mill.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that!” Charles said, trying to sound hopeful. “I mean, Phil’s leg is gonna need some… er… help, but, you know, we’re fortunate that the damage wasn’t worse!”

“Wasn’t worse?” Sir exclaimed, waving his cigar around. “The debarker dispenser is destroyed! Who’s responsible for this mess?”

“Klaus Baudelaire caused the accident!” Foreman Flacutono said, poking his head out of the booth. “He said he knew how to operate heavy machinery!”

“That’s not true!” Violet protested.

“Well, I know that now!” Flacutono snapped.

“I meant it was a mistake!”

“Excuses, excuses!” Sir snapped. “You’re just like your parents! They burnt down the town, and now you’ve come back to finish the job!”

“Sir, be reasonable!” Charles protested. “Perhaps we should re-evaluate our safety procedures- or perhaps, and this is only a suggestion, we shouldn't let children near dangerous machines.”

“I got a better solution,” Sir replied. “One more mistake, Baudelaires, and I'm gonna send you away to a place where you'll learn the value of discipline and child labour. As it happens, I have just the place in mind. Now get back to work! This mistake has cost me an inordinate amount of money!” Without another word, he left the mill.

“It was an accident,” Violet said, hoping to at least convince Charles that Klaus hadn’t deliberately wrecked the mill. “Klaus didn’t mean to hurt Phil, I know he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, when Sir gets like this, there’s nothing I can do,” Charles replied.

“So you’re just not going to do anything? If you can't speak up for us, at least speak up for yourself!”

“Coran!” Sunny added, by which she meant, _You’re a decent person, Charles- you could really help people if you stopped letting Sir boss you around!_ Violet quickly translated for her.

“You’re right, my dears,” Charles said, with a sigh. “I've been a silent partner for too long. And this mill… it has too many secrets. It's time you learnt one about your parents.”

“Charles?” Sir called.

“Meet me after lunch in the library,” Charles said.

“You can't tell us now?” Violet asked, aware that yet another opportunity to find out what was going on at this mill was about to walk right out the door.

“Well, I would, but I've got an appointment.” With that, he left the mill.

“I… I don’t understand,” said a familiar voice from behind Violet. “Everyone is staring at me like I'm a pariah.” Violet frowned, pleased to hear Klaus was back, but unsure as to what had occurred in the last five minutes that had brought him back. “Pariah means outcast,” Klaus explained, clearly misunderstanding her confusion.

“Klaus, it’s you!” Violet exclaimed.

“Wait, what happened to Phil?” Klaus asked, watching their perpetually cheerful co-worker being carried out of the mill on a stretcher.

“I’m okay!” Phil said, giving the children a thumbs up.

“We need to talk,” Violet said.

* * *

“I can’t believe it,” Klaus said, once Violet had filled him in on everything that had happened in the last couple of days, and her theories as to what was going on.

“It does sound like something from a scary movie,” Violet agreed.

“No, no, I believe the hypnosis part. I read the Encyclopedia Hypnotica last year. I can’t believe I hurt Phil! And I almost hurt you too, Sunny- I’m sorry about that.”

“S’okay,” Sunny replied.

“Charles will be back soon,” Violet said. “He wants to help us.”

“No- if Dr. Orwell did something to my brain, I have to fix it.”

“You can’t go back there!” Violet protested. “It’s too dangerous!”

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous, or scary, or anything like that! I have to know!”

“Mama!” Sunny added, by which she meant, _It’s like Mama said- we have to do the scary thing first, get scared later!_

“Don’t use Mother’s mantras as an argument, Sunny,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure Mother would be telling us to get out of this mill before we get hurt.”

“But what if I cause another accident and hurt more people?” Klaus pointed out. “You know, you're the one that wanted to stay here. You wanted to find out what our parents were doing in this town.”

“And I’m sorry I put us in danger. I don't know why they blame our parents for the fire, and I don't care anymore! I just want you to be safe. Count Olaf is here, we have to leave!”

“And we will- after I get back from Dr. Orwell’s.” Then he scooped Lizzie- who had stayed in her cat form since Klaus had broken from his hypnosis trance- up into his arms, and left the dormitory.

Violet sighed, and picked Sunny up, carrying her out of the dormitory, following Klaus. Once she caught up with him, she saw that Lizzie had changed back into an owl, and was resting on Klaus’s arm. Violet reached out, and took his free hand.

“What’s that thing Samuel Beckett said?” she asked.

“ _I can’t go on. I’ll go on,_ ” Klaus replied.

“Then let’s go on, together,” Violet said, and together, she and her siblings walked to Dr. Orwell’s strange office, and towards whatever mysteries lay within.


	16. The Baudelaires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are, guys, at the end of part one! Huge thanks to everyone who's commented and left kudos on this fic, I really appreciate the support, and especially thank you to the folks on the VFDiscord who've supported this fic and listened to me brainstorming ideas and such. I couldn't have gotten this far without you guys. Thank you, everyone, and with that, I hope you all enjoy this final chapter of The Scarlet Salamander, part one of This Dark Descent.
> 
> Lots of love,
> 
> Alice

Chapter Sixteen- The Baudelaires

Klaus

Dr. Orwell’s office building looked more or less the same as it had when Klaus had come here yesterday with Phil. The only difference was that he could see it much more clearly now, it didn’t just look like a big grey blur, and they weren’t going in through the front door this time. Instead, they went round the side of the building, pulled down a ladder that looked like it had once been used as a fire escape, and climbed up.

At the top, they found an iron balcony that contained nothing but two empty plant pots. The eye shaped window was on one side, and Klaus opened it quickly, allowing him and his sisters to slip into the empty office. Klaus tried to remember what had happened the last time he was in here, but he couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting!” Orwell said. Quickly, the children darted up another metal ladder, and hid on the mezzanine level at the top. From here, they could see what was going on below them, but hopefully Orwell couldn’t see them. “Partner trouble- but you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Charles?”

Just then, Klaus noticed that Charles was sitting in a large dentist's chair, Lucy sitting on his lap like a strangely well-behaved puppy, both of them staring blankly ahead.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, robotically.

“She has Charles,” Violet whispered. “This is not good.”

“Now, Charles, would you like to look at the screen and tell me what you see?” Orwell asked, pointing her cane at an image the children couldn’t see from where they were.

“Orphans,” Charles replied.

“Dangerous orphans,” Orwell said. “Charles, don't you think your partner and you would be a lot happier without those orphans around?”

“We could finally be happy without those orphans around,” Charles echoed.

“Klaus, now would be a really good time to tell us what you remember from that _Encyclopedia Hypnotica_ book you read,” Violet said.

“You will awaken from your trance when I say the word…” Orwell began.

“Charles, would you like to do your impersonation of a chicken?” another voice interrupted. Klaus looked over, and saw Olaf’s latest disguise, the blonde secretary named Shirley that Violet had mentioned. Except he’d changed his outfit, so he was now wearing a bright red dress almost the same colour as his dæmon.

“That’s Shirley?” Klaus asked, looking from Olaf to his elder sister, who nodded.

“I told you to wait in the waiting room!” Orwell snapped.

“But I wanna practice the secret words!” Olaf whined.

“Secret words?” Violet asked.

“According to the _Encyclopedia Hypnotica_ , a hypnotist chooses one word to induce hypnotic suggestion, like Nero, or omelette, and another one to break it,” Klaus explained. He shifted slightly, feeling the beginnings of pins and needles in one of his feet, and caused the floorboards beneath him to creak slightly.

“What was that?” Olaf asked, having switched back to his normal voice.

“There’s nothing up there,” they heard Orwell reply.

“Well, if there’s nothing up there, then what was that noise?”

Before the children could hear Orwell’s reply, Violet stood up quickly, pointing towards an airing cupboard behind them. Pulling open the door, all three of the Baudelaires piled into the cupboard, shutting the door firmly behind them. For a moment, they sat there in the dark, slightly cramped space, waiting silently as Olaf clicked past them. Finally, the corridor outside was quiet again, and they left out a sigh of relief. And then Klaus saw the skeletons.

Sunny

Sunny Baudelaire had never seen a skeleton until now. In the whole of her life- which was only a year long so far, in fairness- nobody had thought to explain to her that the long white swinging things which she and her siblings had just discovered were the framework of every grown-up person. So while Klaus appeared very, very scared by what they’d discovered, Sunny stared up at them in fascination.

“It’s nothing to be frightened of,” Violet explained. “I’m sure many doctors have skeletons, so they can study anatomy. I suppose they could keep them in cupboards.”

“But Dr. Orwell’s an eye doctor,” Klaus replied. “Skeletons don’t even have eyes.”

Really? Sunny craned her neck as far back as she could, and saw that Klaus was right- the skeletons didn’t have eyes. So where did eyes come from? Before she could ask either of her siblings, Violet pointed to a big box on the floor.

“Look, this box is full of records.”

“Soli?” Sunny asked, by which she meant, _What, like Tito Puente or Duke Ellington?_

“Not those kinds of records, Sunny,” Klaus replied, and Sunny was grateful that he’d understood what she meant. “Medical records, for employee eye exams.” He flipped through them. “I don’t think Charles and I were the only victims of Dr. Orwell's hypnosis. I think it's the entire mill. That's why they never leave and why they're happy to work for coupons and gum.”

“It's probably why they think our parents started that fire, too,” Violet added. “We need to figure out the word that breaks the trance- we can use the library.”

“We might not need the library,” Klaus said.

“Are you sure you're not still hypnotized?”

“After Phil's accident, do you remember the word that brought me back to normal?”

“I can't remember.” Violet sighed. “We don't have to go back. We can run away.”

“What if Count Olaf finds us again?”

“Then we’ll protect each other.”

As Violet and Klaus continued to discuss their situation, Sunny found herself spacing out. She was tired, and a bit hungry, and though she knew that what her siblings were discussing was important, she also knew that there was not much point in joining in the conversation, or listening to the whole thing- whatever the issue was, Violet and Klaus would decide what the three of them were gonna do about it. They’d become like Mama and Papa in that way, just a bit smaller.

Sunny sighed, and held Oliver tightly. He was in his baby wolf shape, which was probably the best for cuddling, in her opinion. It made her feel a little bad for Violet, because she couldn’t exactly cuddle her dæmon, while Sunny and Klaus still could. Violet didn’t seem to mind, though, so perhaps it was alright.

Klaus

Once Klaus and Violet had made their minds up to return to the mill, Violet scooped Sunny into her arms, and they snuck out of Dr. Orwell’s office building the same way they’d came in.

“Are we absolutely sure going back is the right thing to do?” Klaus asked, pausing outside the large wooden gate of the mill.

“Not really, but what choice do we have?” Violet countered. Just then, the gate swung open to reveal Sir.

“Trying to run away, are you?” he asked, and just like that, any questions about whether the Baudelaires would stay at the mill for the time being were answered.

Sir brought them back to his office, where they sat in uncomfortable chairs and waited to hear what their boss/ guardian had to say.

“I’m not an idiot,” Sir began. “I've been trying to figure out what to do with you since you caused that accident that crushed a man's debarker dispenser.”

“Phil,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _And Phil’s leg, you selfish, smoky asshole!_

“That glib attitude will get you nowhere,” Sir said, thankfully unable to understand what Sunny had called him. “Now, you wanna hear the good news or the bad news first?”

“The… the bad news?” Klaus said tentatively, wanting to get the worst out of the way first.

“There's a local receptionist who wants children of her own. You make one more mistake, and I'm gonna be forced to sack you and send you to live with her. I've interviewed her about her parenting methods, and… I can vouch for her fully.”

“You can’t send us to live with Shirley!” Violet protested. “And Klaus isn’t responsible for that accident, he was hypnotised, just like the rest of the workers here!”

“I don’t care what my employees do for a hobby!”

“Do you even know what's going at this mill? Are you aware of anything outside that horrible cloud of smoke?”

“What happens at this mill is none of my business- well, apart from the bits that are, like productivity levels and log shipments.” He paused for a moment, and Klaus suspected that he was frowning at the children. “Now, is there anything else?”

“What’s the good news?” Violet asked.

“It will build character,” Sir replied. “I was willing to forgive the accident- you three are an economic bonanza, and I'm a softie at heart. But my partner convinced me that I need to be a little more inflexible. Isn't that right, Charles?”

Charles walked into the office, with the same blank, vacant stare that he’d had the last time the children had seen him, in Dr. Orwell’s office.

“We'll finally be happy without those orphans around,” he said flatly, and Lucy gave a mechanical nod in agreement.

Sensing there was nothing left that could be done to convince Sir not to follow through with his plan, Klaus and his sisters left the office and went back to the dormitory. By now night had fallen- only the third night that the Baudelaires had spent in Lucky Smells Lumbermill, which hardly seemed possible given how much had happened since their arrival.

“It’ll build character,” Klaus said, once they were almost at the dormitory. “That’s just something people say when they’re trying to make others accept a miserable situation.”

“It is miserable. If we can't find the word to break your hypnosis, you could cause another accident and we'd be in the hands of Count Olaf.”

“You mean Shirley?” Klaus asked, smiling.

“He looks like Father, when he went to the masquerade ball,” Violet said, laughing a little at the memory. She sighed. “I don’t want you to go away again.”

Klaus wanted to be able to promise that wasn’t going to happen, but as they entered the dark dormitory and sat down at the long table to eat their dinner, he knew that he couldn’t do that- not when he didn’t even know which word Dr. Orwell had used to induce his hypnosis, and which word had broken it the past two times.

“It seems darker in here without Phil to find the bright side,” Violet said, looking around the room.

“It seems darker 'cause it is,” one of their co-workers said. “Sir won't let us keep the lights on. He says we need to cut corners to pay for a new debarker dispenser.”

“I'm surprised they can show their faces after what they did to Phil,” another worker added, glaring at the three children.

“It's not your fault,” Violet said, patting Klaus on the shoulder.

“You're right- it's Count Olaf's and Dr. Orwell’s.” He sighed. “They're a wretched pair of villains, and they deserve each other.

“They deserve to be locked away for a very long time,” Violet agreed. “But for that to happen, we have to find the word that wakes everyone up.”

“So what do we do? Say a bunch of words out loud and hope one of them works?”

“Maybe this can help,” Violet said, grabbing a dictionary that had been lying on the table and flipping to the first page. “Aardvark,” she began.

“Abacus,” Klaus continued.

“Aberrant,” Violet added.

“Will you two be quiet, you’re waking everyone up!” one of the workers protested.

“There’s gotta be a better way of going about this,” Violet said, closing the book with a sigh. “Let’s just hope we work out what that is sooner rather than later.”

Violet

That night, Violet was woken up by the sound of footsteps walking out of the dorm. She looked around for Klaus, but he was gone. Violet climbed down from the bunk and pulled on her boots, then reached back into the bunk to lift Sunny out of it and bring her to the mill with her. Quickly, she made her way across to the mill, where a truly harrowing sight awaited her.

Klaus had been hypnotised again, and he had just finished tying a still-hypnotised Charles to a large log. Lucy sat beside the log- she hadn’t been tied to anything, but she didn’t need to be- she was as powerless and immobile as Charles was at the moment.

Meanwhile, Olaf and Foreman Flacutono were standing near the foreman’s booth, already congratulating themselves on a job well done. The foreman had taken off his gas mask, as if he didn’t want anything obstructing his view of what was about to happen- that or he just didn’t care about keeping his secret identity a secret any longer. Violet was not particularly surprised to see that the foreman was actually Olaf’s hook-handed assistant- it checked out that one of the Count’s five associates had been working in the mill, and while Violet knew that it could really have been any of them, the foreman’s oddly stiff hands did help to rule the other four out pretty effectively.

“Lucky brat, would you like to send that log into that saw?” Olaf ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Klaus replied, pushing the lever of the saw forward.

“Klaus, don’t do it!” Violet cried. Olaf turned to face her, shaking his head.

“Well, well, well. If it isn't... the other two. You're just in time to see the accident!” he gestured to Klaus with a smile.

“It's not an accident!” Violet countered. “You're doing this on purpose!”

“Well, let's not split hairs. That's Klaus's job. And you can shout as much as you want. Your brother isn't here right now.”

Quickly, Violet set Sunny down in an empty crate on the floor, then ran over to Klaus. Before she could reach him, though, the hook-handed man caught her by the collar of her uniform

“Poor little orphan,” Olaf said, as she tried to get away. “Haven't you learned anything this year? Week? Whatever. Wherever you go, I will be waiting. Wherever you hide, I will hunt you down. I'm smarter. I'm pluckier. I'm stronger.” He turned to Klaus. “Put some lower back into it!” he shouted, before turning back to Violet. “I'm unstoppable!” he shouted, laughing triumphantly.

“Why do you hate us so much?”

“Because it's fun!” Olaf replied, then looked over his shoulder at Klaus and Charles again. “How are you doing back there, Charles?”

“Oh! Just peachy, thank you!” Charles replied, before going back to whistling cheerfully.

“Wait till Sir finds out that his partner's been turned into human boards!” the hook-handed man said. “I bet he won't even wait until the morning to fire-” Olaf glared at him, but it was too late. Charles stopped whistling and started panicking, and Violet realised at once what the secret word was.

“Fire!” she shouted. “The secret word is fire! Klaus, fire! Turn off the machine!”

“Nice try,” Olaf said with a smirk. “But did you really think we'd use the same word on your bratty brother that we used on the mill workers? You will never find the word to save your brother. And you certainly won't find it in time to save Charles!”

“Help me! Help me!” Charles shouted.

“Sorry, Charlie. No one's coming to help you now!” For a second, Olaf and his henchman were distracted with Charles- and more importantly, Olaf’s henchman let go of Violet’s collar for a moment. Seeing her opportunity, Violet quickly darted into the booth, closing the door behind her. “Where did the girl go?” she heard Olaf demand, but she ignored him.

“Fire!” she shouted into the intercom. “Fire, fire!”

Violet knew, of course, that it was usually best not to randomly shout fire in a public place, because it could cause chaos and disruption. But she also knew that sometimes it was necessary to shout fire, because doing so could cause the right amount of chaos, and potentially save lives- and she could really use some of that chaos right now.

“What have you done?” Olaf demanded, just as his henchman got the door of the booth open and dragged Violet back out. By now, though, it was too late to stop the impact of what she’d shouted into the intercom. “You!” Olaf shouted, pointing at his henchman. “Shut the door!”

By now, an angry mob of mill workers had made their way to the now closed doors, and were trying to open the door, and demanding justice. Meanwhile, Sunny had climbed onto the log where Charles was tied, and had started to bite at the ropes binding him in place.

“Lucky! Olaf snapped. “Would you like to cut the log faster?”

“Lucky!” Violet shouted, acting quickly now she knew what the command word was. “Would you like to reverse the direction of the log?”

“Lucky, push that lever forward!”

“Lucky, pull the lever backward!”

“Lucky, push!”

“Lucky, pull!”

“Lucky!” shouted a third voice. “Don’t listen to your sister!” Orwell strode into the room, walking over to Violet and Olaf.

“Hey, why didn’t you think of that?” the hook-handed man asked.

“I just stopped by to see if everything was running smoothly, and I'm glad I did, because it wasn't!”

“How did you even get inside?” Olaf demanded. “There’s an angry mob at the door!”

“You're right- I don't trust you with all my secrets.” Orwell walked over to the saw machine, and picked up Sunny, before she could succeed in freeing Charles. “You know, they say holding a baby can make all these deep, primal parenting instincts kick in.” She studied Sunny for a moment, then shook her head. “I don't see it.”

“Sunny!” Violet exclaimed, her eyes now flicking back and forth between both of her siblings.

“Lucky!” Orwell said, ignoring her. She walked over to the furnace, carrying Sunny by her collar. “Would you like to send that log into that saw?”

“Yes, sir,” Klaus said, pushing the lever forward once again.

“You think you're so superior, with your fancy optometry degree and weird hypnosis thing!” Olaf snapped, glaring at Orwell. “Well, I don't need a partner! I was better off alone, where my plots were simple and straightforward and didn't involve any high-concept science fiction gimmicks!”

“Are you breaking up with me again?” Orwell asked.

“No, I'm breaking up with you! Again!”

“You're being insensitive!”

“You're being inor-” Olaf began, before Orwell cut him off.

“Oh, don't say the word!”

Violet grinned. She knew what word Olaf had been about to say- the same word she’d used, to tell Klaus how much she missed him, and the same word Sir had used, to describe how much money the accident was going to cost the mill. And she knew, sure as anything, that this was the secret word that would unlock Klaus’s hypnosis.

“Inordinate! Klaus, inordinate!” Klaus gave himself a little shake, and switched off the saw.

“And now he’s unhypnotised!” Orwell groaned, her dæmon flapping his large wings in irritation. “How in the world does a child know a word like inordinate, anyway?”

“These brats know all kind of words, they're book addicts! But there is still time to cause an accident and get their fortune!”

“Oh, no, you can't!” Klaus said, hopping down from the machine and confronting the two villains. “Now put my sister down.”

“Yes, you may have saved Charles, but there will still be a fatal accident at the lumbermill tonight!” Orwell said, then lifted Sunny up by her collar. “Oh, there you are.”

“If you want our fortune, you can have it,” Violet said. “Just leave Sunny alone!”

“You think you're so clever, but you only see in black and white!” Orwell snapped. Just like your parents. They were shortsighted, too, with their, You can't hypnotize people! And, What about free will? And, We're going to kick you out and have your license revoked, and if we ever have children, we're never gonna let you anywhere near them!” She was getting more and more frantic. Violet kept her eyes pinned on Sunny, not daring to look away for even a second. “Well, I showed them!”

“I don't think I can hold them off much longer, boss!” cried the hook-handed man, from over by the door.

“I'll show everyone!” Orwell declared. “It was never about the fortune! It's about-”

But the Baudelaires never found out what it was really about. Because just then, the mob finally broke through the door, and burst into the room, and Orwell took a step back in surprise. Sometimes, people take a step back when they are startled, and nothing comes of it. Unfortunately for Dr. Orwell, though, when she took a step back, she stumbled, and fell right into the furnace of Lucky Smells Lumbermill.

Fortunately, though, she let go of Sunny, and the infant fell to the ground. Violet reached forward and scooped her up, holding her tightly. Dr. Orwell had been right- there could still be a fatal accident in the mill that night. She was just wrong about who was going to die in that accident.

Sunny

The next morning, Mr. Poe arrived at Lucky Smells Lumbermill to collect the Baudelaires and take them to their next guardian. First, though, they had to provide an explanation for what had happened over the last few days, since they’d left Lake Lachrymose.

While Violet and Klaus gave the explanation, Sunny reached into the pockets of her yellow raincoat. Now that they didn’t have to do work at the mill any more, they also didn’t have to wear the green mill clothes, which was good news to Sunny, because they hadn’t been very comfy. Sunny liked clothes that were comfy, as a general rule, so she was quite happy right now.

“Hypnosis, child labour, Count Olaf in a dress!” Mr. Poe exclaimed. “You children certainly have lively imaginations! But a lumbermill is no substitute for a proper guardian!”

“Home,” Sunny said, by which she meant, _I’m starting to think you don’t actually know what counts as a proper guardian and what doesn’t._ She was feeling a bit grumpy now, because once again Mr. Poe was being stupid, and not taking what Violet or Klaus were trying to say seriously.

“You’re lucky that my wife is such a great investigative journalist- and that there was an accident at the lumbermill,” Mr. Poe explained.

“I had to come!” Mrs. Poe added, entering the room. “It’s like I used to say when I was an investigative journalist- sometimes you just have to follow your instincts!” Her dæmon, a small, fluffy white dog, yapped in agreement.

“So, you mean you found us by accident?” Violet asked. Mrs Poe nodded, and the couple left the office, chatting away about lucky coincidences and dinner plans.

“We never found out what caused that fire,” Klaus said, once they were gone.

 _“_ We know it wasn’t our parents,” Violet replied.

“We don’t know if Count Olaf will turn up again.”

“We know Dr. Orwell won’t.”

“We never solved the mystery of this photograph,” Klaus said, pulling the picture out of his pocket.

Sunny smiled- she liked looking at that picture, even if she didn’t know where it came from. It was just nice to see her Mama and Papa again, and some of the other people she and her siblings had met, like Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine. She was about to reach for the picture, when Charles came into the office.

“Oh, there you are, Baudelaires! I want to thank you for saving my life- because of your quick thinking, I only have a small cut on my foot. You certainly are clever children!”

“Are you leaving Paltryville?” Violet asked, gesturing to the suitcase Charles was carrying.

“I’m gonna search for Sir- he may not have been a good partner, or a good boss… or a good person. But someday you'll learn things aren't always black and white.”

“Squalor!” Sunny said, by which she meant, _Seriously, I don’t even know anything about romance or any of that jazz, but_ _I do know_ _you deserve way better than Sir’s stupid, smoky face!_

“I’m not sure what you mean by that, Sunny, but that’s beside the point. The point is, there is something I’ve been meaning to show you children.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Klaus. “Right, I’m off- best of luck!”

Once he was gone, Klaus unfolded the piece of paper and read what it said out loud.

“Chapter 12: The Paltryville Fire.” This, Sunny realised, was the page Violet had been about to start reading yesterday, before she’d missed the chance. “The Baudelaires were unequivocally responsible for putting out the fire and helping the survivors get back on their feet.”

“I knew it,” Violet said. “I knew they didn’t cause the fire!”

“Good?” Sunny asked, by which she meant, _So, is this good news?_

“It’s very, very good- it means our parents were heroes, not criminals,” Violet explained. That _was_ good, Sunny agreed. That was very, very good.

Violet

With Sir, Charles, Olaf and his henchman gone, there was nothing for Mr. Poe to do except drive the Baudelaires straight to their new location.

“Where do you think we’re going?” Prospero asked, tugging gently at Violet’s hair. Violet didn’t know, and didn’t really have the energy to respond.

“I think you children will have a good home here,” Mr. Poe said. “I hope so, anyway, because I’ve just received a promotion- I am now the Vice President of Orphan Affairs. That means I’ll probably be far too busy to check in on you orphans.”

“What’s our new guardian’s name?” Violet asked, deciding not to address the irony in what Mr. Poe had just said.

“Guardian? Oh, no. Good God, no. I couldn't find a single one willing to take you in,” Poe explained. “Not after what happened to the last three. Uh, two. No, four. Oh, no, children, you're going to boarding school. It's the end of the semester so you will have to work very hard to catch up. It won't be easy, but I promise you it will build character.”

Violet sighed, and leaned back in her seat. She’d read a couple of books about boarding schools, and they’d always seemed pleasant enough- though she had a feeling that in reality, there were going to be far less midnight feasts and hockey games, and a lot more actual hard work. Of course, that wasn’t necessarily a problem- but knowing the luck that Violet and her siblings had had thus far, it didn’t seem to be out with the realm of possibility that they could be heading towards an especially grim school.

As they turned into the long driveway of Prufrock Preparatory School, and saw the large grey buildings that the school seemed to consist of, Violet knew that she’d guessed correctly. Their new home was going to be dark, grim and austere- a word which, as Klaus would be able to tell you, here meant grim and dark.

“Here's a fun bit of trivia- the architect who built this school was severely depressed,” Poe explained, as they parked outside the main building.

“You don’t say,” Violet muttered.

Once Violet and her siblings entered the main building, it became even more obvious just how austere this school was- the walls were all dark grey, and the windows were arched and didn’t let in a lot of light from inside.

The Baudelaires were each given uniforms, and even these seemed dark and gloomy- their new blazers were dark red, and the rest of the uniforms were grey. After they had gotten changed- Violet helping Sunny, though she did not make it especially easy- Mr. Poe led them down another hall, to where a large wooden bench sat, with a high back.

“You know, I always wanted to go to boarding school. Rules, traditions… Why, I'd give every last suit just to wear a uniform. The office is over there,” he said, pointing to a door marked _Vice Principal's Office. “_ You can wait on that bench.”

“You're not coming with us?” Violet asked.

“Oh, this has already taken up much too long already. Banking hours, you know.” He paused, smiling a little awkwardly at the Baudelaires. “Um… I do want you children to know… I hope you find comfort here.” For once, Violet actually believed that he meant that, and he wasn’t just going through the motions. Then he reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a package. “Before I go, this came to the bank for you. I assume it's junk mail. I can't imagine that you know anyone in South America, or why the return address is from my secretary.” He gave them another awkward smile. “So long, Baudelaires.”

Once he was gone, Klaus opened the box, revealing the spyglass that Olaf had stolen back when the children had lived with Uncle Monty.

“The statue lady said she’d get it back,” Klaus said. “Do you think she’ll find us again?”

“Klaus... we're on our own,” Violet replied, not wanting to admit that at one point during their stay at the mill, she’d hoped that the mysterious statue lady would come to retrieve them. There was no use in wondering about things like that, not really, and no use in admitting them now, either.

The Baudelaires went to sit on the bench. However, if they would’ve peered around the other side of its high back, then Violet would’ve realised straight away that she was wrong to assume that they were alone- just as she would’ve been wrong to assume that she and her siblings would ever meet anyone who could relate to the troubling things they’d experienced so far, or that they would meet them so soon.

For now, though, as Violet, Klaus and Sunny waited for the Vice Principal o their new school to come out of his office and greet them, all they could do was hope that Mr. Poe had been right, that they would find comfort here. Violet wanted to believe that- just as she wanted to believe that despite their gloomy surroundings, their series of unfortunate events was finally over, and that justice and peace would win at last. At the same time, she also knew that, given everything that had happened so far, it was entirely possible- and fairly likely- that this would not be how their stories went from here on out.

**Author's Note:**

> (Note One): Settling- During childhood, a person’s dæmon can change form at will, to suit the situation/ the person’s mood. However, at an unspecified point in their adolescence, their dæmon will “settle,” meaning they will take on a single form, and remain in this form for the rest of their life.


End file.
